Elena's eyes opened slowly.
The ceiling above her was the first thing that arrived, high and detailed, the plasterwork at the edges catching the morning light that was coming through the curtains in long pale strips.
She lay there for a moment and let the room come back to her.
The width of it, which was considerable, the kind of bedroom that had been designed around the idea that space was something you could have a lot of and should.
Dark furniture and substantial, a wardrobe along the far wall that ran almost its entire length, a dressing table with a mirror that reflected the morning light back into the room, two chairs near the window that nobody sat in except when she was reading.
She turned her head.
Liam was beside her, asleep, one arm above his head, his breathing slow and even.
She looked at him for a moment.
Then she started to shift, moving carefully, trying to extract herself from the bed without disturbing anything.
His eyes opened.
