The next morning, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and am waking from a medicated coma at the hospital. I’m so groggy that I can barely keep my eyes open. I tried all night to sleep, but my mind was on overdrive, unable to quit thinking of Zeno and what I’d done. Grace gets one look at me and insists I stay in bed. She assures me that she can manage without me for the morning when I argue, and in my weary state, I am no match for her. We come to an agreement that she’ll swing by at lunch to grab me after I’ve had a chance to get a few more hours of rest. I scarf down a cold piece of pizza left over from our first night, then crawl back into bed, making sure to set the alarm with enough time to get cleaned up. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my brain succumbs to sleep, and though I’
