Page 166 of Silent Shadows

twenty-two

DAISY

I wake up gasping, my throat raw and sandpapery. A coughing fit tears through me hard enough to make my ribs ache. For one blissfully disoriented second, I don’t know where I am.

The RV creaks. The bunk wall presses against my shoulder.

My throat burns. My head feels stuffed with wet cotton, which could be from the cold meds or crying.

My memory returns with all the softness of a brick.

Miles. The fight. Me exploring options with Marissa I shouldn’t have even entertained, and him overhearing, and everything imploding.

God. I groan and drag the blanket over my face. It smells faintly like cough syrup and cedar. Like Miles.

Outside the curtain, I hear cabinets open. Coffee pours. Somebody coughs—a low, rough sound I know instantly.

My stupid body reacts. It appears heartbreak does not override recognition. Or longing. Or the humiliating ache of wanting to hear him laugh at something stupid.

I close my eyes harder.

Maybe if I stay here long enough, I’ll evaporate.

A quiet knock taps against the bunk frame.

“Alive?” Jax is there. If he’s awake, I’ve definitely overslept.

“Debatable,” I croak.

The curtain shifts open an inch, and he winces when he sees me.

“Oh, wow.”

“What?” I ask, pulling a blanket over me.

“You look worse.”

“Thank you.”

“No, like, medically.”

I throw a pillow weakly in his direction.

He catches it with dramatic concern. “Okay, aggression is still there. Great sign.”

Then his expression softens. Too much. Like everyone’s trying very hard not to step on emotional landmines.

“There’s tea,” he says. “Maya made soup.”

I blink.

“Oh.”

“And—” He hesitates. Something in my chest tightens in anticipation.

“What?”

“Um… there are meds.”