It’s Saturday late in the night, far too late to still be awake.
Yet Hazel lies wide-eyed, body rigid and shivering cold, even under the thick duvet. The coldness—it’s in her bones, seeping into every muscle, making her feel limp and extremely uncomfortable despite the softness of the mattress.
It’s not like the weather is cold or anything…. the thought that’s lingering in her mind is.
‘Tomorrow. Lennox will be here. Tomorrow.’
She can’t believe it. She refuses to believe the thought pounding relentlessly in her mind.
And what worries her even more is the fact that she doesn’t know the exact time he’ll be here: Morning? Afternoon? Evening?
It’s all too much.
Suddenly, she bolts upright, her gaze shifting to the alarm clock on the bedside drawer; 11:50 PM.
10 minutes to midni
