That night I lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep despite the medication Charlie had recommended. Cel had settled down but hadn't fully drifted off — she was too stubborn to commit to sleep, and her restlessness fed into mine until I couldn't stand lying still anymore.
With a huff I threw off the covers and climbed out of bed, deciding a walk around the house might help. I grabbed my slippers, shuffled out of my room, and wandered downstairs, exploring whatever rooms I could find. It was eerie seeing so many of them sitting empty and unused, especially the kitchen, which felt wrong without any noise or warmth in it.
An hour passed and I still didn't feel tired. I asked Cel what she wanted to do, but instead of answering she took slight control and began leading me through the house herself. We climbed the stairs again and I assumed she was sending me back to my room, but she bypassed it entirely and continued up the next staircase without hesitation.
