You turn over to face the clock. ‘9:56 PM’ You need to get home before your 10:30 PM curfew. You soon find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing at the window's gentle glow. Just as you’re about to stand, a soft tug on you shirt catches your attention—it's Lottie.

With a raspy, sleepy voice, she whispers, "Please don't leave." She rubs her eyes, drawing you closer.