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I slept soundly and alone until around midnight. I wasn’t sure if the thunderstorm woke me or if it was a gradual intensifying of my subconscious thoughts that provoked me from slumber.
I slipped into my secret corridor, stopping halfway along to watch lightning strikes hitting enormous rods projecting upward from New York’s tallest buildings.
Rain lashed my window, beading quickly and running down the glass like rivulets of icy cold, but although I shivered, wearing only a pink with gold lace silk negligee, I knew it was warm outside.
In my study room, I pulled a few books from the shelf and began reading case law about surrogacy. I needed to brush up and understand where my life was headed regarding potential pitfalls.
A heavy knock at my study room door startled me, and I lifted my head from a book, seeing drool that had dribbled onto the wooden desk surface while I slept.
It was 7 a.m., and I’d fallen asleep.
I shuffled to the door, still half asleep, opened it, and was surprised by the beaming woman on the other side, wearing her gym attire.
“Hi, Amy. I worried you didn’t show up at the gym this morning. Is everything okay?”
“Hannah… yeah, sorry, hi. I feel drowsy. Can you give me an hour, please?”
“Make it two because I need to finish my session. Maybe I’ll see you in the kitchen later for coffee.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Fuck, why did I agree to meet?