Alina stayed at the same cheap hotel that night, the dress bag and stationery bundle placed carefully on the little chair by the window. But even with the light off and the blanket pulled up to her chin, sleep refused to come.
Her head pounded, a dull ache that settled behind her eyes and wouldn't go away. She turned on her side, then again. The thin pillow felt too hard, the blanket too itchy. Her heart wouldn't stop racing with old thoughts… the boutique girl's smirk, Celeste's cruel voice, Riccardo's eyes, her mother's pale hand…
She stared at the ceiling in silence.
It felt like the nights from before — when she had no job, no purpose, and everything felt uncertain. When the weight of the world sat on her chest and wouldn't move.
She didn't know when she finally dozed off, but it was restless and short. Before the sun even rose, she was already awake.
