With a pained, disappointed sigh, I drag myself up off the kitchen floor.

“Hey, Eliot,” I message him. “Unfortunately I have to go help somebody with something right now. It was nice talking to you, though. I hope you can get to sleep soon.”

“Oh! Sure. Yeah, it was nice talking to you, too. Good luck with . . . whatever you’re doing.”

Mr. Sawyer starts knocking on my door right on cue, and I look mournfully at my phone one more time. I can’t help myself from saying one last thing.

“Good night.”

He messages back immediately.

“Good night.”

All right. Back to real life. I slip my phone in my pocket and answer the door.

Chapter Two

Eliot

I wasn’t alone last night.

That’s the first thought I have when I stir awake. There was someone there with me. A fellow insomniac. Another middle-of-the-night zombie staring at the ceiling. She talked to me. She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it, but she actually talked me through it. Brought me through the worst part of the night. Ferried me across the river. Painlessly.

Have you ever had one of those random times of day when you always look at the clock? You know, you just happen to look up at 2:16 in the afternoon a couple times a week? You don’t know why exactly, but you just do? Well, unfortunately, for the last two months, mine has been 4:27.

In the morning.

For years, I’ve always been a very disciplined sleeper. No screens after 9 p.m. Stretching, toothbrushing and flossing, lights out by eleven and generally I knock out for a solid eight or nine hours. Almost every night of my adult life.

But for the last two months? I’m a sweaty, red-eyed mess in and out of light sleep until the dreaded moment I look at the clock, and yup, it’s 4:27 again.

4:27 is a real asshole, because it’s too early to be considered morning and too late to be considered nighttime. If it was five o’clock on the dot, I’d just say it was time to get up for the day. If it was four o’clock on the dot, I’d try to convince myself to sleep a little more. But since it’s a no-man’s-land time of night, I usually just end up staring at my bedroom ceiling, listening for footsteps that don’t come.

They can’t come, I constantly have to remind myself. Security system, new locks on the windows, CCTV. I’m snug as a bug in my apartment.