You wake up with a groan, feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck. Your head is throbbing and your throat feels like sandpaper. The soft patter of rain against your window doesn’t do much to lift your spirits either. As you try to muster energy to get yourself out of bed, the door to your room creaks open.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” Stephanie’s voice a soothing balm to your aching body. She steps into the room, a tray in her hands. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast. You look like you need it.”