“I…I can’t sleep.” Even though I have now pegged her to be about twelve or thirteen, there is something very childlike about her declaration. After all, only children think to fetch an adult to help them sleep. As an adult, you just lie in bed, struggling with your insomnia and trying to stave off your own dark thoughts alone. I feel a stab of guilt that she trusts me enough to elicit my help after I went through her stuff.
