A little sun was shining into the room as I yawned, pushing my hands over my mouth to not wake Zaynab who had moved from her end to the middle of the bed, forcing me to press into the wall.
The cold disappeared sometime in the night as Zaynab started to trash, heating up as she did so that I started to think the worst, anxious she would set the bed – and me– on fire. Thankfully, she didn’t.
It was morning then, judging from the light streaming in and my eyes were heavy with sleep. I blinked it away like I had done all night, stifling another yawn.
A sharp rapping on the door made me sit up in alert. The rapping sounding again, like wood against wood and Zaynab groaned. The sound continued and I got out of bed, approaching the door slowly. Was it a rat?
I walked slowly to the doo
