Esme nodded, her body moving on autopilot as she rose from her chair. "I will," she promised, her tone light. She turned, forcing herself not to stumble as she made her way toward her room, the familiar ache in her head growing heavier with each step.
The moment she closed the door behind her, her facade dropped. Esme leaned against the door, pressing her palm to her forehead, her breathing shallow. The dizziness hadn't passed, and she felt the exhaustion tugging at her limbs, stronger than ever before.
**It's getting worse**, she thought. But even now, alone in her room, she couldn't let herself crumble. There was no space for weakness—no matter how much she needed rest.
After retreating to her room, Esme barely made it to the sofa before exhaustion overtook her, pulling her into a deep, restless sleep. The weight of her weariness pressed down on her, and despite the swirling thoughts in her head, her body succumbed to the much-needed rest almost instantly.
