Kate was still in her pajamas, coffee cup clutched between both hands. She sat at the tiny, kitchen table, watching the brown liquid as it slowly dripped down into the carafe in her coffee maker, willing it to drip faster. Drip faster, goddamnit.
Then there came a knock at the door. At first, she wasn't sure if it was really a knock, or just a phantom of her sleep-addled brain. But then there was another knock, and a voice on the other side of the door.
She padded to the door and pulled it open, clad in flannel pajama pants, a hoodie, and a pair of mismatched socks.