Maya's POV
The jarring sound of my phone yanked me from sleep. I hadn't turned it off last night, and I knew exactly who was calling before I even glanced at the screen. Only one person called at this ungodly hour.
"Hi, Mom," I answered, my voice thick with sleep.
"What good morning?" she snapped. "Six in the morning and you're still in bed? What other terrible habits have you picked up there that I'll need to correct when I bring you home?"
I sighed, pushing myself up against the headboard. "Mom, my work starts at nine, and I live right next to my workplace. There's no need for me to be up at dawn."
"So what?" Her voice rose an octave. "I raised you to wake up at five every morning—that's what a proper woman does! A wife must have breakfast ready when her husband opens his eyes."
"Mom..."
"Dean't you 'Mom' me, Maya!" she interrupted. "I already told you I'm bringing you back home, and your marriage to Connor's son is nearly arranged."
