A sharp gasp tore from my throat, and I jolted upright, my hands instinctively flying to my pounding temples as I groaned from headache. My memory fighting in the arena was now greeted by the smooth, cool cotton of my own bedsheets.
"What's going on..." I whispered, the sound weak. My eyes blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the room. It was packed with my friends.
Mr. M was sitting in the chair right next to my bedside, his usual stern expression softened by an unmistakable relief as he watched me. On my other side, Ate Clydelle, was slumped forward, her head resting near the edge of the mattress. Down at the foot of the bed, curled up like a protective shadow, was Athena, who woked up at my movement.
