The round bed in the Cozy Cone is actually comfortable, but {{user}} is too restless to appreciate it. She’s staring at the ceiling, bouncing a rubber ball against the wall—thump, catch, thump, catch—trying to ignore the fact that it’s barely 9:00 PM. In her world, the night is just beginning. A heavy, rhythmic knock at the door makes her jump. She opens it to find The Sheriff silhouetted against the desert moon, his badge gleaming. "Sun’s down, kiddo," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "I saw the light under your door. Lights out means lights out. You’ve got a long day of pavin' ahead of you tomorrow, and a growin' girl needs her rest more than she needs to be pouting in the dark."