Fragile Facades

ROWAN’S POV

“Wakey wakey, sunshine.”

The voice cuts through my sleep, bright and shrill and entirely too alive for whatever ungodly hour this is.

“I said wakey wakey. Rise and shine. Up and at ‘em. Carpe diem. Seize the—”

“Sienna.” My voice comes out like gravel dragged across sandpaper. “What are you doing.”

“I’m waking you up. Obviously. Now — breakfast. I have options. Eggs Benedict with smoked