"Did you have a nice nap?" Cyan asked.
Cole blinked at her. "When did I get home again?"
"No clue," Cyan said. "Everyone outside was busy being merry. You missed the barbecue."
Cole looked at the bowl in her hands, then back at her. "I slept through a barbecue?"
"You're not a heavy sleeper. I figured you probably needed it."
Cole frowned. She was right. He woke up when cabinets shut too hard, when someone crossed the room, when a door clicked open down the hall. A barbecue should have been impossible to miss.
Which meant he had been more gone than asleep.
He tried to remember lying down. He could picture the door, the stairs, the handrail under his palm. Then nothing. No mattress, no blanket, no Cyan coming in. He had made it to bed, apparently, but his memory stopped halfway up the stairs. The missing stretch should have bothered him more. Instead, his limbs felt too heavy to hold onto the concern anyway.
Cyan set the bowl on the nightstand. "I made soup."
