Chapter 3
Jayden was woken by a very persistent tugging sensation on his arm, and groaned. It was too early for being alive—if it was before noon, it was too early, and it was Saturday, for God’s sake, and Christmas Day—and he mumbled something incoherent to make Darren leave him alone. There. Awake. Now go away.
Then there was a wet sort of sob, and Jayden woke the rest of the way up—only to find, on opening his eyes, the tugging was on the wrong arm, and his brain was stupid anyway. Darren was buried under the duvet by the wall, because since never did Darren wake up before Jayden did; Jayden’s right arm was hanging off the bed, and being persistently pulled by…
“Rosie?” he mumbled, scrubbing sleep out of his eyes.
She sniffled again, putting her hand in her mouth along with a corner
