Apartment 16. Tamara Turner. History (Part 4)

It wasn't until I had showered—being extra careful with the right side of my face, of course—that my adrenaline finally died down and the painful throbbing started. I was too cowardly to look in the mirror but judging by Mia's regretful expression when she looked at me, I had an idea of how bad my face must have looked.

I could feel my eyes drooping as soon as I laid eyes on my bed, but when my head hit the pillow, I couldn't seem to put my mind at ease. There were too many events of the day that crowded my head.

I decided to list back those events in chronological order from most recent—waking up at the infirmary, the cafeteria, my encounter with Logan at the library, until finally, the conversation I had with my sister over lunch haunted me as I drifted to sleep.

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