Corrie is usually a pretty good sleeper, but she doesn't usually have people trying to wake her at arse o'clock in the morning. She wakes with a start and no idea what's happening. "Omeone playina norgan?" she wonders aloud. Her family's not churchy folk apart from Dad's attempts at cultural horizon-broadening, but that doesn't sound like churchy music. It reminds her more of her old dormmate, the one who did trapeze in the summer.

It's been three years, though, so it probably wasn't her dormmate. No matter how snarly they'd been by the end of school, that'd be dumb to show up and play weirdo music just to wake her up, right?

Corrie frowns for three full minutes before groaning, executing a flawless rollflop out of bed, and shuffling to the door.