Rory stirred awake, the gentle hum of morning light spilling through the curtains. The familiar rustle of clothes drew her attention. She blinked away sleep and focused on the figure moving around their bedroom.
“Sam?” she croaked, her voice thick with slumber.
He paused mid-motion, glancing back at her with a lopsided grin. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Why are you getting dressed already? You just got home at one.” Rory pushed herself up on one elbow, squinting against the sunlight that streamed in.
“Attending in the morning shift has the flu. Someone has to cover,” he replied, shrugging on his shirt.
Rory frowned, pulling the sheets closer to her chin. “But you’ve worked eighteen hours straight already. Can’t they find someone else?”
He crossed the room, his footsteps soft on the hardw
