Chapter 19: Morning

Anastasia's POV

The morning light pierced through the curtains. My head felt like a melon that had been dropped from a ten-story building. With a groan, I pried open one eye, then the other, squinting at the harsh numbers glowing on the bedside clock: 10:00 am.

 “Ugh,” I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut again in a desperate attempt to escape the throbbing pain behind them.

Just the thought of sitting up sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me.  Ignoring the dull ache blooming in my lower back, I attempted to rise anyway, only to be met with a white-hot spike of pain in my head that had me flopping back down onto the pillows with a whimper.

That’s when Susan materialized in the doorway, a tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup held carefully in her hands.  “Good morning, Miss Anastasia,”

“Ugh, Susan. I slept in so late. I can’t believe it’s already ten.”

“You should drink this, Miss,” she said gently, plac