A clatter from the direction of the kitchen woke her. Hayley rolled over and opened one eye, noted that bright sunlight seemed to be peeking in from behind the curtains, and reached out with her left hand to pick up her phone from the table next to the bed. A push of the “home” button, and the screen came to life, telling her that it was nine-thirty in the morning.
Better than she’d hoped, but still nothing close to eight hours of sleep. Or even six, considering that she’d finally closed her eyes around four. Oh, well. She could function on the sleep she’d gotten, as long as she didn’t make it a regular habit.
After setting her phone back down on the bedside table, she pushed herself out of bed, found a pair of yoga pants in a dresser drawer, and pulled them on. Since she’d passed out we
