I woke on our quaint overstuffed little couch the next morning, a huge yawn and a stiff neck greeting we with the sun. Rosie was still passed out in the recliner, her red curls making a small veil over her face as her soft snores carried across the room.
My arms were over my head, a cat-like stretch straightening my spine as I started to move around. The clock on the stove said that it was almost 7 a.m. Thank goodness it was Saturday, or I'd be shaking Rosie awake right now.
Hearing my phone buzz, I picked it up, shocked to see so many missed calls and texts, mostly from Liam, a few from Margot.
Liam: Are you ok?
Liam: I'm fixing this, I promise.
Liam: CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS
Liam: Answer the phone, Sof. Are you with Rosie? I'm coming over if I don't hear from you soo
