My eyes fluttered again, facing the inky darkness of the ceiling. I made a pitiful sound, fingers curling into the blankets and tugging them closer. Nothing worked. Ever since I got back from the dinner and tried to drown my sorrows by sleeping, it was not helping. I turned to face the nightstand, meeting the blaring red numbers. 

It’s four in the morning. 

Before I could stop myself, my legs worked on their own, up and out of bed, being pulled ...