Chapter 55 Fragile Connections

• Narrator
• Ann has been in her hotel room for days now sulking. The room was dark, and the air was thick with the odour of stale perfume and the faint aroma of unused room service trays that had been left to collect dust. Ann slept on her bed, her clothes hadn't changed in days, and her hair was unkempt. Her eyes were puffy from all the tears she had shed.
• The days had blurred together, a haze of pain and emptiness. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t bathed, hadn’t even moved much from the spot she now occupied. Every time she attempted to get the courage to get up and do something, anything, the weight of everything that had transpired crushed her back down.