Chapter 25

• The sun piercing tiny slices through the drapes is worse than having salt poured into my eyes. Nausea hits as I try to sit up, and my mouth waters crazily. My cell is by
• the bed, and I realize it’s been switched off. I never switch it off! I don’t even know what time it is; I could have missed a multitude of calls.
• I swallow down the bile and reach for the glass beside my bed; lukewarm water will have to do. I know I should remember last night, but I don’t remember much after my third drink. I don’t do hard liquor, so it’s no surprise.