He placed his phone next to his head, as was his habit, so he wouldn’t miss any notifications. Or if Katrina needed him.
Really, it was the second thing he cared about most.
Chapter Eight
KATRINA WOKE UPin slow degrees from her sleepy cocoon. Without opening her eyes, she rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. She needed to get up soon. Read her paper, feed her sourdough starter, go make breakfast, get to work.
She groped next to her for her phone to check the time, but nothing met her hand. Katrina frowned.
The sheets didn’t smell like her sheets. She’d used the same detergent and fabric softener combination for longer than she could remember. She ran her fingers up the cotton, which was rougher than her high-thread-count stuff. Wait. This wasn’t her bed.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her eyes flew open and she rose up on her hands and clambered to her knees.
The place looked like it had been ripped from another time, with old wood-paneled walls and sturdy furniture hand-carved out of oak. The blue and white quilt she was tangled up in was clean, but deeply loved, the fabric worn.
Holy Laura Ingalls Wilder, where am I?
Not her room.
Because you’re not at home, remember?
Jas’s place. His family’s farm. She breathed out through her nose, then did it again. That was right. She was safe.
“You’re fine,” she whispered to herself. “I know this is out of the ordinary for you, it’s not what you’re used to, but you’re fine.”
She wrapped her arms around herself to give herself a hug and took her time examining the room. It wasn’t her bedroom, but now that the confusion had worn off, she could see that it was quite nice and tidy. There was an inviting, well-used fireplace in the corner and a stack of firewood next to it.
You’ll like this place. You came here to feel better.
She inhaled and exhaled, letting the knee-jerk fear leave her completely. She reached into her jeans pocket, where her phone was uncomfortably wedged. She vaguely remembered staggering up here, but she must have only taken her shoes off before sleeping. This particular prescription always left her groggy.
Her thumb hovered over her Twitter app. She’d downloaded it yesterday, for this nightmare. She had little use for social media, and this hadn’t made her want it. She got her news from print papers, connected with others who had similar panic issues on online forums. Social media was exposure.
She almost opened the app, but then backed off. She didn’tneed to be in a fetal position immediately upon waking up, now, did she? Twitter and fetal positions could wait. For a shower, at least.
Her bag was next to the door, and she made her way to it and pulled out her toiletries and jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She’d packed cool-weather clothes. A girl liked a nice blanket scarf and boots every now and then.
The hot shower revived her, as did her morning skin care routine. Each product she dabbed onto her face and neck felt like an extra protective layer, even if the essences and serums were watery and light.
She turned the lights off in the bathroom and went to her bag with determination. She would be here for a while, and she’d get used to it. Though she was in a new place, there was no reason she couldn’t have a bit of order and discipline.
She unpacked her suitcase, hanging up her clothes in the closet and putting her undergarments away in the dresser drawers that smelled vaguely of lavender sachets. She frowned when she noticed a blue sweatshirt wedged into the corner of her bag. It was Rhiannon’s favorite one. How had it gotten in her suitcase?
She pulled the hoodie out and shook it. A small scrap of paper fell to the floor. She picked it up and found Jia’s handwriting.
Rhiannon told me to give this to you in case you need a hug. Does that make sense? I thought it was weird but figured I’d pack it for you.
She clutched the cotton close to her. She was very lucky in her friendships.
She drew the hoodie on, even though it didn’t go with her outfit. Rhiannon was taller than her and skinnier, and she couldn’t close it over her chest without smashing her breasts down. That was okay, it fit fine. Sisterhood of the traveling hoodie.
Katrina grabbed her phone and took a selfie, sending it to Rhiannon and Jia in their group chat. She purposefully kept her tone light and cheerful.
Everything’s fine! Got here safely. Thanks for the present, Rhi.
Her phone rang immediately. She didn’t know what time it was for Rhiannon, but she imagined her best friend must be dead-tired. She answered. “Hey. Are you at your hotel?”
“Just got here.”
