Courtney woke to the sharp trill of her doorbell, a sound that had no place in the lazy quiet of her Saturday morning. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, blinking against the morning light leaking through her blinds. For a heartbeat she thought she might have dreamed it. But then it came again, insistent. With a groan, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor.
She shuffled toward the door, her hair a mess and her oversized sleep shirt sliding off one shoulder. She opened it—and froze.
"Mom?"
Her mother, Marissa Taylor, stood in the doorway with a wide smile and a paper bag tucked under one arm. "Surprise, sweetheart. Don't just stand there, let me in before the neighbors start wondering why I'm being kept out in the hallway like some unwanted guest."
Courtney blinked again, disoriented. "You're supposed to be in Milwaukee. What are you—"
