Chapter 4: The Morning After

I woke up at seven, because I had never really gone to sleep.

The door was unlocked.

The hall was empty.

Somewhere under my bed, behind the dust ruffle, my cotton shorts lay where someone had tucked them away, folded.

I stood under the shower with my forehead against the tile and let it run until I stopped shaking.

Then I put on a sundress and went down to the kitchen.

I did my best to look like a woman who had slept like the dead.

They were all there.

Drake stood at the stove in a grey T-shirt, scraping eggs around a pan.

Dean sat at the table with his phone held up in front of his face.

Finley was reading the back of the cereal box, which he had been holding upside down.

Gabe saw me in the doorway, went red up to his hairline, and dropped his fork.

"Morning," I said, and yawned hugely.

"Morning," Drake said, without turning around.

"Morning, Callie," Finley said. "Sleep okay?"

I took a mug from the cupboard and filled it from the pot.

"Like a log," I said. "I had the weirdest dream, though."

Dean's phone slid out of his hands and hit the table.

"Oh yeah?" Drake said.

He still hadn't turned.

"I couldn't tell you what it was." I frowned into my coffee. "I just woke up feeling really good."

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