In October she was tired in a way she had never been tired.
Not sleepy. She could have told anybody the difference, and did, several times, with some impatience. Sleepy is a thing that happens to the top of your head and goes away when you stand up. This was underneath — in the arms, mostly, and in the four flights up to her own flat, which she had climbed twice a day for six years without ever once thinking about them and which she now stopped on.
One quick thing
Before you start reading
We keep an anonymous record of which chapters people finish, so we know which books to write more of. It is never sold and never linked to your name.
Choose either. The whole site is yours either way.