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One more minute.

It wasn’t like running late was unusual for her.

Allye jerked her head up. The movement sent a shock of pain down her neck.

“Ow.” She reached numb fingers to massage the area. She must have dozed off. With the realization, panic jolted through her. What time was it? She shot to her feet. Bad idea. Her equilibrium was off, and she grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling. She blinked through the fuzz encroaching on her vision and turned to check the clock.

11:55.

She sagged back into the chair, disappointed. There’d be no church for her this morning. She’d missed last week too.

Classical music floated from the living room. Her phone. Allye stood—slowly this time—and let her vision clear. She smacked the on switch to her now-cold-again water kettle as she passed it. She wouldn’t make it to the phone in time anyway. As she’d expected, the music stopped before she was halfway across the room. It began again almost immediately. She snatched it from the end table before it could throw the caller to voice mail again.

“Hello?” Her voice cracked on the word, and she grimaced. At least the pounding in her head wouldn’t travel through the phone and give her away.

Corina’s concerned voice came across the line. “Hey. You okay? We missed you this morning.”

She blew out a disgusted breath. “Yeah. I overslept, then fell back to sleep.” She left out theat my kitchen tablepart.

“Oh.”

She pressed the heel of her hand against her eye. “Did you need something, or are you just checking up on me?”

“Both. Bryce wants to grill this afternoon. You interested in joining us?”

“Sure. What time? And what can I bring?”

“We’ll eat about four, but you can come earlier if you’d like. And you don’t have to bring anything.”

“Okay.” But she would. Corina should know better than to think she’d come empty-handed.

Corina hesitated. “You sure you’re doing okay? You don’t sound so good.”

Should she tell her best friend about what had happened the other night? Maybe, but what if she didn’t believe her either? And what if it had all been in her head? She didn’t really believe that, but neither did she have an explanation for the weird events. And if Corina did believe her, she’d want to know why the police weren’t taking her seriously. Which meant that Allye would have to admit to her health struggles.

Tell her.

She knew she should. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it yet.

“Allye?”

“I haven’t had my tea yet, and I had a pretty bad migraine yesterday,” she deflected, trying to lighten her tone. “Once I get some caffeine in my veins, I’ll sound a whole lot better.” Might feel a tiny bit better too.

“You should remedy that.”

“That’s my first priority when I hang up.”

Corina chuckled. “Then I’d better let you at it. See you this afternoon.”

“See ya.” Allye disconnected the call and rubbed her forehead. Everything still felt foggy. Hopefully, the tea actually would help. And give her the energy to bake cookies or something.

She returned to the kitchen. Today called for an Assam tea—full-bodied, high caffeine, perfection. The water was just coming to a boil, so she selected and portioned out her tea leaves. The kettle’s auto-off switch kicked in just as she was ready to pre-warm the teapot. She swished a little hot water in the pot, dumped it, then added the infuser basket. Her hand shook as she poured water over the tea leaves, but she managed to fill the pot without spilling much on the counter.

While the tea steeped, she sopped up her mess and began to search for something to eat. She didn’t feel like cooking, so she settled for a leftover biscuit and a spoonful of peanut butter. Not ideal, but it would have to tide her over until dinner.

Once the tea was ready, she settled at the table with her meager brunch and tried to plan out her afternoon. She had nearly four hours to kill before heading over to Bryce and Corina’s. Baking would take up some of that time, but she should attempt to do some photo edits.

And clean the kitchen. The mound of dishes glared at her from the sink like some sort of monster. Despite Friday’s embarrassment, she hadn’t had the energy to do anything but double-check her practically useless locks after Eric left. She’d slept with her phone in her hand, ready to dial 911 if her intruder returned. And doing anything yesterday had been impossible.