“Whoa.” Beth stands in the doorway, surveying the landscape. I’ve taken the trash out. I scrubbed the bathroom. The plates in the sink are washed and stacked. My bed is made, with clean sheets, the pillows fluffed. My clothes are folded. The floor swept. The window open. I’ve even lit a candle, one that Beth gave me last Christmas that had been living in its box under my bed.

“What the fuck.” She’s still standing there, goggle-eyed, and I smile, twisting my bangs. She places her bag gingerly on the floor, finally stepping in, leaving the door gaping open behind her. “You know, I always thought your place was such a hole. I was like, why is Sue paying this much for a literal closet? But there’s so much more space when it’s clean. Wow.” She spins slowly. “And you get so much natural light. Who the hell knew?”

She sits carefully on my bed, smoothing out the wrinkles her body leaves behind, and gazes out the window at the golden hour, right before the sun sets. “You even cleaned the window,” she says softly, sliding her pinky gently down the pane. She shoots up then and gives me a hug. I stiffen at her touch, but then relax into it, letting her squeeze the life out of me.

“So, what is it? How did this happen? Who inspired you?” She claps her hands eagerly like a little kid.

“I haven’t dreamed once this week. There are lots of things you can do when you’ve had a good night’s sleep.” Beth puts her hands over her mouth.

“Are you serious? No dreams? Nothing? Are you in a new kind of therapy? What is going on?”

“I don’t know. They’ve just stopped.” I keep the rest silent, because it sounds too crazy, even for me. Since I re-met Anneliese.

Beth’s eyes dart to my desk. “Did you start new pills? I don’t see your normal ones.”

Shit. I should have known she’d notice.

My gaze flits to the ceiling, because I know Beth will be worried about what I tell her next. I could lie. But I’m a grown woman. At the end of the day, it’s not Beth’s responsibility to care about my meds.

“I flushed my sleeping pills down the toilet. I think they were making me too groggy. I just feel so refreshed now, you know?” I wait for Beth to pounce on me.

But she’s gentle. I can tell she’s practicing the appropriate lines in her head before she opens her mouth. “Okay, I’m all for this new you. But are you sure? You’ve been on those pills for a while. What does your psychiatrist think? And remember, they did help you out a while back. You weren’t sleeping at all before you started taking them.”