Page 4 of Valkyrie Confused

Better put these on. It'll be a bit chilly till the heaterkicks on. And don't worry—I didn't open all your bags.

P.

I can't summon the strength to feel embarrassed. I'm a grown-ass woman with normal sexual urges.

“A grown-ass woman with normal sexual urges, who doesn't need to unpack,” I mutter to myself. “I call that a win.”

I pull on my pajamas, slip under the cold sheets, tuck them and the comforter around me, and… get up again, because I left my phone in the bathroom, and without my phone, I can’t set an alarm, and without the alarm, I’ll oversleep, and God only knows what disaster will befall the universe if I don’t stick to my schedule.

Phone in hand, I return to my cozy bed. I’ll just take a two-hour nap and be back in control of—well—everything.

TWO

SCARLETT

An odd sounddraws me toward wakefulness. Or rather, it shoves me into alertness, though I keep my eyes closed till I recognize the source.

There it is again. Is it… a hoot?

An owl.That’s an owl. I’ve never been close to one in its natural habitat.

My relieved chuckle brings with it a sense of discomfort, as I become more aware of my body. My arm beneath my chin has gone numb, and my cheek is stuck to it.Eww, I drooled in my sleep. I hate when I do that.

I raise my head and furiously wipe at the sticky mess with the hand I still have full control over, before forcing my eyes open. It’s pitch black in here.

"Siri, where are you?" I call out.

"I’m right here," comes the muffled response. A sliver of light slices the darkness. I shake my numb arm till the pins and needles in my fingers subside, and sneak it under the pillow beside me, to clasp my phone. I tap the screen and cringe when 00:09 appears on it.

It’s after midnight. Barely, but still. I slept through the alarm clock and for a total of more than twelve hours. There goes my plan of waking up at five in the morning, to do my Tai Chi, have breakfast, and write, so Panos can give me a tour of the premises before the guests are up. Unless I manage to go back to sleep, I’ll probably be getting drowsy again around dawn, which will mess with my schedule.

Enter full-body shiver. I abhor things messing with my schedule.

I’ll have to go back to sleep.

I roll over. Tuck the covers beneath my legs. Fold my left arm under my head. Change my mind and drop it to my side.

It’s very quiet here. Except for the owl. No voices, no cars, no vague city sounds.

Because I’m not in the city. I’m in a village. Not even near the center. Out in the wilderness. Alone in a building, with a man I don’t know. I mean, Panos may be the sexiest thing since Nutella, but he is a stranger, and one who may have a second set of keys to my apartment.

Nah, that’s paranoid author-brain speaking.

Still, sleep isn’t happening. I may as well get up, forgo my Tai Chi, and write. I can ask Panos for a tour once breakfast is served. Which will mean I’ll have to skip breakfast.

My stomach growls its disapproval of that plan. I haven’t eaten since my flight.

Okay, so I’ll go grab a snack now, put in three hours of writing, nap for two hours, then wake up to do my Tai Chi, andthenget the tour of the premises.

I open my planner app, delete my entries for the morning, and map out new time brackets for each activity. There. Now that it’s written down, I have to stick to it.

Since I’m on my phone, I also jot down the shower idea. Can’t wait to start writing this one.

My eyes have gotten used to the darkness, so when I drop my feet off the edge of the bed, I can make out the shape of my trainers on the small rectangular rug. The thought of wearing them again after the hours I had them on yesterday and this morning is repulsive. I snatch them up, and padding barefoot on the warm wooden floor, take them to the apartment’s main selling point—the balcony.

Stretching to the length of my bedroom and almost as wide, the balcony oversees the entire valley.I didn’t close the curtains over the floor-to-ceiling glass panes before I went to sleep, and I get a first-row seat to the starriest sky I’ve ever laid eyes on.

My breath hitches in my throat. So much beauty. But also, it hammers in the notion of how far from civilization I am. And maybe how alone I am. A hollow emptiness in my chest, where swallowed tears reside, threatens to release a flood of them.

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