Ritchie had lain fully dressed on top of her bed, not even pretending to sleep, for hours in the dark before another guardian had finally arrived to relieve Guardian Rodin.
Rodin, with her accusing eyes. How was Ritchie supposed to sleep with that woman glaring judgment at her nonstop?
Not that Moreau was having any problem. The soft sounds of her snoring blended with the rustling of the curtains and the drone of the nighttime insects below.
Ritchie watched Rodin slip out of the room. Then she saw the new guardian looking down at her.
"Still awake?" the woman whispered. Ritchie nodded. "Do you need something to sleep?"
"You mean like a d**g?" Ritchie whispered back.
"If you like. But I was thinking more of a warm glass of milk. Always does the trick for me," the guardian said.
"No,
