“Ms. Cloette! Ms. Cloette! Wake up!”
I inch an eye open but shut it again when the sunlight from the window hits it. Besides that, I hide myself underneath a thick silky blanket.
“It’s almost nine!”
I hear and understand her. But my body feels too battered from last night’s gathering and my mind tells me to keep resting.
“I don’t think she’s awake.”
“Just let her sleep some more. Come back here by noon.”
When a deep toneless voice reaches my ears, the urge to face the owner of that voice hurtles through me, instigating my eyes to open and my body to move. I toss the blanket off my upper body and carry my weight into a sitting position. Though my eyes are still blurry, the voices of the two silhouettes standing on the foot side of the bed are easy to identify. One belongs to Micah
