It feels like there's a sledgehammer in my head, and it's trying to demolish something, although I'm not sure what. Peeling my eyes open, the single ray of sunlight coming through my blinds makes the pounding worse. But something feels off so I power through it.
I vaguely remember falling asleep while snuggling with Daniel on the couch and then waking up in the middle of the night to throw up. But the memory is blurry. Could it have been a dream?
I roll over and look at the clock: 2:37 p.m.
Not only have I been asleep all day, I was asleep all night. That means Chance hasn't eaten in… maybe as long as eighteen hours. Oh no!
I jump out of bed, which, feeling like I do means I drag my feet over the side, try desperately not to vomit, and shuffle my way to the door. He's not crying, which
