Bustling, gentle knocks on her door woke Athena from a restless sleep. She sighed, opening her eyes, willing the knockers to go away, her head pounding insistently. But the knocks kept on.
Her children. She knew it was them.
What could they possibly want? She wondered, groaning as she sat up weakly in bed, wishing they could give her some space.
She cussed at the thought immediately. Since when did she start needing space from her own children?
She sighed and shouted, "I am coming!" Then trudged to the bathroom to rinse her face. When she came out and checked the clock, she frowned—it was just five a.m.
Why were they awake?
Before going to open the door—knowing the children would be drowning in impatience by now, yet having no choice—she opened her drawer, picked up the pill container, and downed two pills with the glass of water she had collected from the tap in the bathroom.
