Epilogue
Trip fumbled with the narrow card key, trying to figure out which end was supposed to slide in first. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink. He should have stopped after the first glass of wine. But the ceremony had stretched on for hours longer than he’d anticipated, and he’d had to sit there and watch all the smiling, happy couples with nobody at his side. Winning for the Amnesty International spread had been only a mild compensation. He would have much preferred losing if it meant he hadn’t spent the night alone.
The little green light flashed on the lock plate, and with a tired sigh, Trip turned the knob, pushing open his hotel room door with his shoulder. Sleep. Sleep would make it better. He’d set his award on the nightstand so that it was the first thing he saw when h
