[Sleep doesn't come so easily these days. She's been growing more agitated over the week, and that restlessness eventaully propels her to rise from the sitting room and head for the vestibule in the dead of night. Tia's hand curls around the handle of the main entrance, only to meet resistance when she attempts to twist it.]
Huh?
[She tries to turn the handle again. It doesn't budge.]
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Week 1: Thursday
Huh?
[She tries to turn the handle again. It doesn't budge.]
Hey, what's with this?
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