The sun bled through the slats in her blinds far too early. Avery buried her face into the pillow, eyes raw and burning from the night before. Her throat felt tight, and there was a weight sitting square in her chest like she’d swallowed something heavy in her sleep.
Or maybe that weight had followed her from the night before.
She rolled over and stared at the ceiling, the silence in her room deafening. The only sound was the faint hum of the AC and the distant clatter of someone moving downstairs. Probably Cheryl. Or maybe Max.
Her stomach flipped at the thought.
She hadn’t heard him come upstairs, but something in her bones said he had. That he’d been close, even if she couldn’t prove it.
She sat up slowly, dragging the blanket off her legs. Her body felt stiff, her heart exhausted.
