The shrill scream of her alarm ripped through the quiet of the room, dragging a groan of pure irritation from her throat. Jacqueline fumbled across the bedside table, seized her phone, and silenced it before collapsing backward into the welcoming softness of her pillows. She had barely released a breath of relief when a sharp knock rattled her door.
"Go away," she muttered into the mattress.
But she already knew that was useless.
The door creaked open anyway. Light footsteps crossed the floor, followed by the decisive swish of curtains being thrown apart. Ruthless sunlight flooded the room, those wicked golden rays attacking her peaceful darkness without mercy.
"Hélène, stop!" Jacqueline protested groggily as the middle-aged woman began tugging at her quilt. Jacqueline clutched it tighter, wrapping herself like a burrito in desperate defense.
