I was starting to think I had insomnia.
Maybe it was the trembling infected outside. They wandered through the dark streets, clawing at the boarded-up doors, laughing or muttering profanities to themselves. Even through the wood and nails, their voices carried. Made something as simple as sleeping feel like a gamble.
Or maybe it was the fact that no one had been keeping watch.
Lila rested beside me, her arm draped across my stomach like she always did. According to her, it was for warmth.
I knew deep down I couldn't swear that was the only reason.
The room was quiet except for the wind pushing against the loose boards on the windows. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake, thoughts refusing to settle.
Something felt wrong.
Not loud. Not obvious. Just a faint itch in the back of my mind.
The kind of feeling you get when you're running and suddenly realize your shoelaces might be untied, but you're too busy to stop and check.
I told myself it was nothing.
