“I appreciate it more than you know. How…how did we get here, so quickly, that is?” I ask, fishing for any and every bit of information I can gather. “It wasn’t all that quick. I may have overestimated the dosage for the packet of apple cider,” he says with a frown. “Apple cider?” I ask, my mind trying to follow the last memory I had. The drink Wesley gave me in the kitchen, right before everything went black. “You drugged the cider packet?” I ask. “Well, my options were quite limited, and I know what a weakness you have for the stuff,” he smiles, like it’s an endearing thing. “Don’t be mad,
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