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... , followed by the telltale swing of the door and the loudest voice on this side of the packhouse.

"Oh no, don’t even think of pretending to be asleep," Marcy huffed, hands on her hips as she stepped in like she owned the place. "You’re wearing the same hoodie I saw you in three days ago. Get up. We’re going out."

I didn’t even lift my head from the pillow. "Not happening."

"Girls’ night, Josie."

"Not in the mood."

Marcy plopped down on the foot of the bed, ...

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