2 a.m. Iris could see the number’s hazy green glow through her half-lidded gaze that could find no rest. It had been a long, slow climb to 2 a.m., and there was no end immediately in sight.
She rolled from her side to back again, sucked in her breath, closed her eyes, and focused instead on the sound of rain against the window panes. That had started at about 1 a.m. as a slow drizzle, but its intensity had increased over the hour, and there were several rolls of thunder and flashes of lightening she’d seen behind the curtains since then.
Her breath hitched suddenly and she lurched forward before falling back with a groan. Cilan, in bed beside her, shifted as she moved.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked drowsily.
“She’s kicking. Again,” Iris mumbled before laying her hands atop her swollen belly. “And I feel sick.”