Jasper watched Katty’s features writhe with pain, her brow tightened, tears wet her pillow, her chin quivered as she tried to hold it in. Her arms hugged her body tightly. She leaned over from the cot and threw up again.
What did that make? Three times. There couldn’t be anything left in her stomach. The dispatcher had come in to offer Katty some breakfast of coffee and a bagel, but Katty had refused it. The lady kindly helped her lie down again.
She’d had nothing—no booze—for twenty-four hours? Her stomach should be empty and she should be closer to sobriety than she’d ever been. By now, going on her past experience, she would have started drinking again upon waking.
It always seemed like pouring down more booze when Katty woke up, helped—that it somehow settled her stomach and kept he
