I couldn’t place the song right away – I hadn’t slept much, and I was groggy as hell – but I noticed right off that it wasn’t anything mournful. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, blinking against the sunlight peering in around the curtains, not at all surprised to find Brian still unconscious beside me. London stopped playing and looked up at me. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” I shook my head, struggling to disentangle myself from the bedcovers. “What time is it?” I asked as I stumbled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. “Nearly noon.” I swore under my breath and was about to ask why he hadn’t woken Brian and me, but I remembered all that had happened the night before – false hope, meltdown, sleeping pills. Yeah, I’d have let us sleep, too. Still, we needed to find Dylan, and we couldn’t do that while cavorting with the Sandman. I went through my morning routine and got dressed, and by the time I was done I felt a little more human. Stepping out of the bathroom to find breakfast and coffee waiting helped a little more.
