Sienna

The smell of coffee and toasted bread drifted into my room before I even opened my eyes.

For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of voices coming from downstairs.

It was still early — the kind of morning where sunlight poured through half-drawn curtains, warm and slow. I stretched, checked my phone, and noticed the time. Almost 9:00.

Then I heard a familiar deep voice downstairs.

A voice that made my stomach drop.

Coach Daniels.

I ...