The pounding on her door penetrated the deep layers of sleep. Freya fought the thick fog forcing her eyes closed, making her body heavy. Alarm spread. It was as if she had been drugged. Her gaze found the small alarm clock on the bedside table. Three o'clock in the afternoon. She had slept two hours away. She sat up slowly, feeling as if she was wading through quicksand. The pounding on her door began again.
The sound echoed in her head, thundered at her temples.
