Geneva
My eyelashes flutter as I jerk back into consciousness. I’ve been doing that a lot over the last three days, dozing off at random intervals, but it’s to be expected given how busy we’ve been. It only takes a second to orient myself to the surprisingly spacious hospital room. It doesn’t look sterile and impersonal with the copious celebratory bouquets covering every surface. A bright-pink one from Vivian, Brynn, Cade, and Summer rests atop the freestanding wardrobe, making me smile.
“Hey,” Van says softly. “Feel better?”