ELORA

The shrill sound of my alarm drilled straight into my skull like a jackhammer. My arm flailed across the bed, desperately trying to shut it off.

When I finally slammed the button, I groaned, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling in complete horror.

Eight AM.

"Shit. Shit. Shit"

I scrambled upright, the room spinning slightly from the leftover wine still pumping through my system. My mouth tasted like regret and my head throbbed like someone had taken a bat to it.

I was supposed to be at Grayson Towers by nine am. None later, not sooner.

But considering the traffic on Lexington and my usual morning...