Amelia woke with the dull weight of exhaustion pressing against her chest, as if sleep had merely passed over her without stopping to rest. Her body felt heavy, her thoughts already racing before her eyes had fully adjusted to the morning light.
Thin lines of pale, indifferent sunshine slipped through the gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across her comforter. Her phone lay beside her on the mattress. She stared at it, but she didn’t reach for it.
For a long moment, she just gazed at the ceiling, listening to the rhythm of her own breathing. In. Out. Slow. Careful. She moved with a strange, internal fragility, as if shifting too fast might cause something deep inside her to shatter.
Eventually, she turned her head and picked up her phone.
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