Sleep. Sip. Sleep.
Sip. Blink a couple of times at the line of light that was making its way across the floor, then sleep again.
By the time Dustin hefted his legs off the couch and stood on shaky legs, the once bright light behind the curtains had faded to gray. He downed the last mouthful of cold tea, shivering at the aftertaste, forcing it to flow along a throat that was raw and dry. The bucket was gone, and how Nicolae had managed that without waking him, Dustin couldn’t fathom. But he felt remarkably well, considering. Of course, he thought, as he pushed open his cell phone and focused on the time, fifteen-some hours of sleep could do that to a person. He located a bathroom far easier than he recalled the process being a few hours earlier. The room he’d woken up in had three doors,
