Standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, I watched Camille sleep with the kind of peaceful expression that only came from complete exhaustion. Her breathing was deep and regular, and she'd somehow managed to claim the entire king-size bed, sprawling across it like she was trying to hug the mattress itself.
"Camille," I called softly, not wanting to startle her but knowing she needed to wake up eventually. The sun was already well past noon, and she'd been unconscious for nearly twelve hours.
Nothing. Not even a twitch.
I tried again, a little louder. "Camille, it's past noon."
Still nothing. Her breathing didn't even change rhythm.
