Sunlight, bright, cheerful, and entirely unwelcome, streamed into Ines's room. It was an assault. A direct one at that.
She groaned, the sound a low, scratchy thing in the back of her throat. She turned her head, burying her face into the cool, dark side of the pillow. The brightness of the room was damning. It was too happy. It was a morning, and she felt as if the night had swallowed her whole.
Slowly, painfully, she woke up. She pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed, her legs still tangled in the sheets. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, a small, childish gesture, trying to clear the blur.
She opened them, allowing her vision to adjust to the light. The room came into focus.
And the first thing she saw was Edith, her back to her, pouring a glass of water from the carafe on the side table.
