Not quite what I was expecting but enjoyable none the less, with a dash of whodunnit thrown in.
God, being awake was almost as bad as trying to sleep. She groaned miserably and dragged a comb through her unruly shower-damp hair. She felt an overwhelming sense of grief and loss for someone that might have been, still might be, maybe never really was. She sighed, annoyed with herself for being so pathetic. Surely, after all this time, she ought to have the knack of saying what she meant? Or was talking to men something else that had been forgotten along with the finer steps of the mating dance?