She's trained to function on minimal sleep, so the few meager hours she got before he texted her would suffice if she ended up staying up long after this.

She pushes herself up in the bed, propping herself up against the wall when he sits at the edge of her bed. Her hair's a jumble of messy red curls, half of it having fallen out of the hairtie she used to hold it back.

"No, it's just my knife. That name is horrible."