Athena woke with a splitting headache.
A groan slipped past her lips as she rolled beneath the weight of it, dragging herself up from under the sheets. Her palm pressed flat to her forehead, as though she could somehow halt the steady, merciless pounding there.
She leaned back against the headboard with a weary sigh, grateful for the heavy curtains that kept the sunlight from spilling across the room and worsening her mood.
Her gaze drifted to the wall clock. The numbers swam for a moment before settling, and she gasped softly when she made them out—eleven a.m.
She shook her head in disbelief, making a mental note never to eat sugared cookies from strangers again.
Who had done this to her still?
Her thoughts shuffled through the faces from yesterday's porch greetings. Was it Geraldine? Or the old woman with the glittering clothes? The overly grateful young couple? Or that girl who was already married at nineteen?
