All she could do was squirm and hope...

When she looked in the mirror, her haggard reflection stared back at her. The brush in her hand clattered into the sink and she whimpered in disbelief.

The cut on her lip and the bruise on her face, even the swelling around her eye, were gone. The blackness had faded back into her normal ivory skin tone. There were a few tiny scratches from the blades of grass that he had thrown her into. Her fingers gently prodded her skin to see if it hurt. There was no pain anymore. Slate had touched her right there. She could still feel the heat of his gentle thumb. Why did she feel so lost and confused?

Anyone else would be delirious enough not to question things, but she was not anyone else. The answers eluded her for now. Perhaps Slate would approach her at some point and explain his actions. He must feel some regret for how he treated her.

Her classes would start in about ten minutes and that was the last place she wanted to be. Her studies were usually first and foremost in her mind, but not today. Worry plagued her; she felt like a fly in the middle of a black widow’s web. Something intricate was being woven around her and she was helpless to stop it. All she could do was squirm and hope it was merciful and quick.