Ana
The exhaustion of the day slams into me all at once like a semi. I guess the
adrenaline wave I've been surfing since the moment I discovered the unresponsive lightswitch had to crash sometime. I lay my head down on my folded arms and close my eyes. My head feels hot and fuzzy, like I've been awake too many hours and my brain is about to overheat. The lighting in this dismal little interrogation room is harsh and pierces through my eyelids. I want to go back home and sleep.
And eat. Then I realize I've gone back to not having a place to call home anymore. Not that the safehouse was really ever a home, not in the way my parents' house or Ryan's cabin was. I didn't realize until this moment that the house I shared
with Ben meant something to me, however small.
I open my eyes to stare
