Three days after Caddey's Butcher Shop was broken into, Tuly Lewis didn't get much sleep. That's all she could say for sure.

Allison Groves was not alone in her dislike of her roommate. Tuly Lewis had many friends—but few her age. She hung around with older girls, girls from high end neighborhoods whose fathers were doctors and lawyers and whose mothers bought them expensive clothes and spent Sunday afternoons entertaining friends with tea and tiny cakes. Girls like Tuly. Tuly Lewis's parents had money; that was no secret. Tuly had wanted for nothing in her life, and it showed. She was a hard girl to get along with, something Allison Groves, among others, knew firsthand. A girl like Tuly Lewis was as predisposed to clash with a girl like Allison Groves as oil was to water.

Tuly Lewis missed half of breakfast that morning. Breakfast was served at Briargate from seven to eight every weekday morning for all who wanted it. Tuly was always present; her mother was infamous for stressing just how important a meal breakfast was. And if there was anything that could be said for Tuly it was that she was punctual. Tardiness was a poor reflection of one's self (another thing Mrs. Lewis was prone to say). That was the only reason anyone really took notice. Some of Tuly's friends thought she was sick. They never would have thought to ask Allison, or the two other girls that shared Tuly's room, Maggie Tilworth and Francine Tracy. They would never have thought to talk to those girls for anything at all.

Tuly stumbled into the dining hall at half past, groggy and droopy-eyed and noticeably upset. She stormed right past her friends without a glance. Her sights were set further down at about the area Shannon Malone had sat the night of the banquet. She attracted more than a few onlookers; she looked as if steam may start pouring from her ears.

"You were messing about with me in my sleep last night," Tuly said when she made it to her target. She slammed her hands down dramatically on the table across from Allison Groves.

"Have you gone out of your mind?" Allison asked dully. "I wouldn't go near you in your sleep. Or when you're awake, even."

"Don't lie," Tuly said petulantly. She waved a finger in Allison's face. "I know you were doing something. It's why I overslept."

"Oh, lay off me. I didn't do anything." Allison knocked Tuly's hand away. "Maybe Maggie was drawing on you again. Her mom sent her a new set of pens that she's been dying to try out."

"You did so do something." Tuly was practically whining now. "It wasn't Maggie. I saw you."

"You couldn't have seen me, I didn't do anything!"

"Yes, you did!" Tuly brought her hand back up, waving her forefinger around to emphasize each word. "I woke up. I saw blonde hair; you're the only one in the room who has blonde hair. It had to have been you!"

Allison stared at her, jaw dropped in confusion and amazement. Finally, she said warily, "You're nuts." She looked down at her plate of eggs.

Tuly let loose a cry of frustration and stamped her foot before stomping away. Plenty of heads were turned her way now, and they watched as she stormed over to her friends, practically throwing herself down next to them. Many of them unconsciously leaned away from her.

Part of Tuly's intense irritation could be attributed to lack of sleep, but certainly not all. She had been correct; it was blonde hair she'd seen the night before. She was foggy on most of the other details, though, and somewhere in the pit of her stomach that made her uneasy. The headache pounding behind her eyes did not help.

She'd gone to bed at nine last night, just as she always did. Francine was already asleep, but Maggie and Allison were still awake, Allison reading and Maggie doing God knows what. Lights out for everyone technically came sometime between nine and ten, but the rules were poorly enforced and Maggie Tilworth was infamous for staying up half the night. Tuly tried not to let it bother her; there were curtains that could be drawn around her bed and Maggie at least had the decency to be quiet with whatever she did. Allison had late nights as well every once in a while, but she was always a rather silent roommate even in the waking hours, unless airing her grievances. Tuly didn't have to worry about her.

Or so she had assumed. The night before had challenged that.

Tuly had been incorrect on at least one count in what she'd told Allison. She hadn't woken up. At least, not really. There was a kind of consciousness that flitted between asleep and awake, and that was where Tuly Lewis spent most of the night. She was restless; she could remember tossing and turning, not quite awake. Her dreams were vivid and strange, disturbing, disjointed images like scenes from badly damaged film strips. She thought perhaps at some point the curtains around her bed had been drawn back. Someone had stood over her bed, though she could not be sure if that was a dream or not. Her rationality told her it was Allison; she remembered blonde hair clearly. It never crossed her mind that it could have been someone from outside her room.

Yes, she had seen blonde hair; in a fuzzy state of half-sleep, she'd seen someone's blonde hair as they were leaving her. It was not Allison Groves, however, that she'd seen.

***Ah, will I ever write anything I'm satisfied with? Probably not. Thanks again to all those who voted and commented :)***