SERAPHINA "Sera" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW
My body feels heavy as stone. I want to wake up, but even the smallest movement feels impossible. I try to open my eyes, but my lids are thick as velvet, glued shut by exhaustion. Lifting an arm takes more strength than I have-every muscle throbs like I've been hauling iron all night long.
I need to get up. The twins are calling for me somewhere close by, their voices soft and worried-but my body pulls me back into the mattress, a low whisper in my bones: Sleep, Sera. You've earned this.
But today matters. The boys need daycare enrollment-they're already a year behind, and I can't let them fall further. Come on, Seraphina. Get up. No one else will take care of them.
Even as every nerve screams to stay put, even as my mind begs for five more minutes, I force myself to sit up. It's like pushing through water; an invisible weight pins me down.
