I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep, but sleep doesn’t come. Tonight, the twenty feet separating us is nineteen too many. Feeling like the sickest creep on earth, I rise from my spot on the floor and slowly turn the doorknob to Zahara’s room.
The goddamned door opens.
I f*****g told her to keep it locked!
As carefully as I can, without making the slightest noise, I step inside the darkened bedroom.
The carpet covering the floor is thick, muffling my steps as I approach. Moonlight slips through the gap in the drapes, falling onto the bed where Zahara is sleeping. She’s curled in the fetal position atop a sea of white bedding. Despite the long-sleeved nightgown, she must be chilly. Especially with her blanket tossed off and bunched at her feet.
For a moment, I let myself stare at her
