Date = 25 December
Christmas. I’m so not in the mood for happy family time.
Place = San Francisco (Mel’s house) (Uncle John’s house)
POV - Melaena
“Mel!”
Kiara’s voice bulldozes straight through my dreams — or nightmares — and yanks me toward consciousness like a cruel hook in the ribs.
“Wake up.”
I hate how perky she sounds.
My eyes flutter open, and I’m instantly assaulted by a beam of light so violent it feels personal. I hiss and shield my face.
Why the hell would she open the curtains?
“b***h,” I mutter. Affectionate. Deeply affectionate. Practically a love language. I swear.
I groan and push myself upright inch by miserable inch.
Mid-morning sunlight floods the room, cheerful and smug, like it’s celebrating a merry Christmassy spirit. I wish the sun would get a pain shove
