35: Sophia Strikes

YVONNE —

The next day

"Ammy," I called her, waking her up from sleep. Ammy was a short word derived from her real name, Amanda. I usually call her that when I know she is stressed out, so she can feel I care for her just as she does for me and my kids.

She wailed, stretched her hand, rolled on the bed, and positioned herself to continue sleeping.

"Amy, wake up; this is five o'clock A.M., and you're still sleeping," I remarked.

Feeling disturbed, she hissed with dissatisfaction, "Who is that? What is it?" She yelled and opened her eyes.

With drowsiness filling her eyes, she gazed at me. Upon realizing it was me, she sighed heavily, standing up from the bed.

"I was really stressed out yesterday," she snapped, heading to the kitchen.

"I have already warmed the food if that is what you're going for. You can now bathe and get ready, so immediately the clock's shortest arrow hit five and the middle arrow hit twenty-five. You should be done with everything, so once it hits six o'cloc