Slide. Jill Hathaway

to get home. I was determined not to close my eyes until I knew my sister was safe. But that’s the thing about sleep—you can’t avoid it forever. It waited until my defenses were down and sucked me under.

      I trip over my blankets, racing to my sister’s room. It’s still empty. Where could she be?

      I hear something down the hall—someone in the bathroom, retching into the toilet. I run to the door, try the knob, but it’s locked. I bang on the door.