Cienna groaned, grabbed her phone from under her pillow and pressed the button to dismiss the alarm. She remembered last year’s New Years’ Eve when she had excitedly set the alarm in advance for this Christmas Day. Damawyn had watched her, laughing at her granddaughter’s enthusiasm. “Cienna, you’re twenty-five and you still love Christmas like when you were a little girl,” she had said, before grabbing Cienna’s hand and giving it an impulsive kiss. “Damawyn, you gotta plan ahead,” Cienna had said, tossing back her black curls and laughing along with her Damawyn. As Cienna recalled those words, she saw how naive she had been. You could plan ahead but the universe had its own plans. In the springtime, her beloved Damawyn had suddenly passed away, a few weeks after suffering a heart attack during her daily walk in the park. It had been a shock to Cienna who had lived alone with her grandmother since she was a year old.
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