17
Sam was surprised she even woke up the next morning. She couldn’t quite remember how much she drank but her vague memory recalled many empty bottles.
She rolled out of bed and frowned. Where were her clothes? Why was she wearing the curtain-cape? Was she naked underneath?
Worried, she glanced down.
Stark naked.
“Great. What happened?” She looked at the hellhound pretending to sleep on the bed but didn’t get an answer. “Of course, you don’t know.”
She stumbled to the bathroom but before she could get dressed, the doorbell rang. Her hangover amplified the sound and echoed it through her skull, leaving ringing in her ears.
“Uggghh.” Sam groaned as she shuffled through her bedroom and into the hall, barely recognising the house. She waded through a sea of paper cups and empty bottles
