The next day, Reesa woke up well before the sun. Her inability to get back to sleep led first to a bubble bath, then the donning of a sweater dress Hazel had gotten her for her last birthday. She’d just finished putting her curls into a chignon when she heard a patterned knock. Thinking it might be Harper, whose suite was across the hall, she sprinted to open the door.
“Buongiorno, mitica,” Myko said. A steaming, sweet-smelling teacup of what looked like hot chocolate was in his hands.
“Good morning,” Reesa replied. A swift cringe followed as she’d caught herself speaking in a new and higher octave, but then she rationalized that it wasn’t completely her fault.