Morning did not come gently to the Adrian Blake's mansion.
It arrived loud.
Not the kind of loud born from disaster or alarm, but the kind spun from two voices bickering downstairs like restless birds fighting over a branch. Derek and Diana's voices rose and fell, sharp in some places, ridiculous in others, echoing through the halls as though the house itself was tired of them already.
Raya blinked awake to the sound, her eyes gritty, her limbs heavy with a kind of exhaustion that sleep could never cure. The noise curled around her like a tug, pulling her out of bed and into consciousness.
What are they shouting about this early?
She rubbed her face, sighed, and dragged herself into the bathroom.
