I woke up disoriented, voices arguing somewhere in the apartment. The sheets under me were warm, trying to lure me back to sleep.
Slowly, I sat up. Cradling my head because it hurt.
There was a bandage wrapped around my wrist, but I had no memory of it getting there.
The voices were clearer now. It was Ms. Duval and Isadora in the kitchen, I couldn't make out what they were saying.
I stood up, the room spinning for a while. I went to the kitchen, both of them pausing mid-sentence when they saw me.
"Why did you get out of bed?" Ms. Duval asked, clearly unhappy about my decision. At least she was alright now, a bit of warmth had returned to her face. She no longer looked like she was in pain.
"I woke up and heard you two talking," I answered when I realized she was still waiting for my response. "What's wrong?"
"She's angry because I brought you here," Isadora said, crossing her hands on her chest. "I mean what was I supposed to do? Sit there and watch her die?"
