Caine's strange behavior takes more mental real estate than it should, but I manage to finish my dinner with him gone. Eating under pressure is a lot harder than I ever expected.
With a full stomach and nothing else to do, I curl up on the bed. My eyelids grow heavy despite lingering anxiety; will Andrew really come? Is this plan going to work? Will I be okay once I get to Sterling City? So many questions, all impossible to answer without more time.
Eventually, the soft mattress beckons me into sleep, a temporary escape from this bizarre reality.
A rough shaking wrenches me out of deep sleep, and my foggy mind registers someone's hand on my shoulder.
"Grace, wake up."
I sit up with a yawn, stretching my arms above my head until my joints pop. The motion helps clear some of the cobwebs from my brain, but when my vision focuses, my body freezes mid-stretch, hands locked high in the air. "Rafe?"
