LAYLA’S POV
Am I dead?
Probably not. Dead people don’t have headaches this bad.
My eyes flutter open to a blur of pink and more pink and my hand is already reaching for my glasses before my brain catches up with the news that they’re gone. I drop my hand.
I blink until the smear of color gradually organizes itself into something I recognize: my room.
A small smile curves my lips. I’m definitely not dead. There’s no way the moon goddess designed the afterlife to look like this. She has more taste than that.
I turn my head and the first person I see is Edward. He’s in the chair by my bed, arms folded, head tilted back, and eyes closed. His chest rises and falls slowly and I watch him for a moment without moving.
I don’t know what it is exactly. Whether it’s the fact that I’m safely i
