Bennett’s eyes blink open so suddenly its as if she can still hear the squeak of bike tires. She gasps as if surfacing for air. It had been one of those sleeps where her brain forced a hard reboot.  She barely remembers leaving Sam’s place, let alone crossing the driveway and clomping up her own porch steps, swinging the door shut behind her and making a beeline for the couch. She’d dropped so fast into oblivion her brain hadn’t had a chance to shuffle through its normal shutting down procedures. 

Now, blinking blearily in the different light, systems are booting back up so quickly she can’t keep up.

Gran. 

Mr. Gunderson. 

Sam. 

Ben.

For a moment she doesn...

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