Madelyn woke up with a start, rising upright like she had been pulled from her sleep. Violently. Her heart pounded. She gazed about dazedly and blinked against the wall. It took her a moment to remember where she was, what she had done the night before, and who lay sick and wounded in his bed.
Jumping out of bed, she hurried to Mr Brand's cabin, halting quickly by the door when she heard voices. He was not alone. Was he well enough to receive visitors? Apparently, his crew did not care. She leaned closer and peeped inside.
He was awake now—bright-eyed and lucid, unmistakably himself. He was wearing a shirt, and his hair had drawn back over his shoulder. Colour seemingly had returned to his face.
She espied the room.
