"Beautiful," one attendant whispered softly.
Daniella looked uncertainly at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back—softer, more refined, less exhausted than usual. Almost like she belonged in a place like this. The thought unsettled her immediately, because she didn't. Did she?
Her fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the vanity.
Then suddenly a voice broke through her thoughts. "Stop thinking so loudly."
Daniella jumped violently. She turned sharply toward the doorway. Santiago stood there now fully awake and dressed, leaning calmly against the frame with one hand in his pocket. Black shirt. Dark trousers. Perfectly composed already—like the lazy man buried in blankets thirty minutes ago had never existed at all.
Daniella pressed one hand against her chest. "You nearly killed me!"
