“Won’t work,” Annie insisted as she moved toward the fridge. “I have the perfect hangover cure,” she continued, taking out tomatoes and what looked like it had once been celery from the fridge. She glanced dubiously at the drooping leaves. “God bless French students, is all I can say.”

“You make that and I’ll do breakfast,” Colette said, reaching over Annie and grabbing out some bacon and eggs. “There’s a lovely little grocery shop just down the hill. I found it this morning while out on my walk. The owner’s been there for over thirty years, she told me.”

Kim groaned again. These girls were way too perky. Annie looked as fresh as she had yesterday evening, and Colette had been out for a morning walk and already made friends with the locals.

Surely Kim hadn’t drank all that liquor by herself?

“You can cook?” Annie asked, as she began to chop vegetables and drop them in a blender.

“I cooked for Mum every day for years, remember?” Colette answered proudly.

Kim vaguely remembered the English girl telling them last night about her mother being unwell, but that she was better now. They’d all been sitting out on the terrace, sharing stories under the stars.

For her part, she wasn’t sure how much or little she’d told them about her own background; last night still felt like kind of a blur.

Annie was about to start the blender, but Kim already knew her head wasn’t going to be able to take the noise.

“You two do what you’re doing, I’m going outside to lie down for a while. Or no, scratch that,” she said, remembering the blinding sunshine. “Maybe I’ll try to find someplace in the shade. Call me when breakfast is ready.”

She padded out to the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the cracked tiled floor.

She made it to a couch in a living area situated at the rear of the house, facing away from the sun and with little natural light, before the spinning in her head overwhelmed her. She flopped into the worn-though-comfortable cushions without ceremony, and flung an arm over her head to shield her eyes, even though it was satisfyingly dark.

She felt sooo bad and wanted to go back to sleep, but with the combination of the pounding in her head and the chatter and cooking noises coming from the kitchen, she knew the chances of that were near impossible.

This was not a good start. Kim had come all the way here to escape her New York party-girl crap and she’d ended up trashed and dancing in the moonlight on her very first night.

So much for changing her life.

“There you are,” Annie’s voice suddenly resounded nearby. Kim peeked out from beneath her arm. The other girl had a tall glass of some thick red concoction in her hands. She frowned.

“What is it?”