Her stomach grumbled angrily at the memory, and her head throbbed against her scalp.  Great.  Hangover.

Her eyes roamed to the red-numbered alarm clock on the dresser.

Six thirty in the morning.

Devon still had two or three hours left before she had to get up.  She sank back into the comforter, feeling completely emotionally drained.

It was just a dream.  Just a dream.  She had to keep telling herself that over and over again.  No one was after her.  No one was following her.

Just a dream.

DEVON JUMPED IN the shower a few hours later.  No matter how hard she had tried, she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep.  The haunting memory of someone chasing her through the streets had stayed with her.  She had emptied the contents of her stomach in the bathroom twice since waking.  She was dead tired, and she just wanted to crawl back into bed and crash, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to shut off her brain.  As soon as she had tried, everything had rushed back to her all over again.

She changed into a pair of light jeans and blue tank top, pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and then covered the dark circles under her eyes like an expert.  Her head was still aching, despite taking 1,000 milligrams of Tylenol earlier.  She knew she needed to eat, but the thought of food sent her stomach into a fit.

Finally feeling human enough to leave the bedroom, she edged out into the kitchen.  She poured herself a glass of water and slowly sipped it.

“Good morning!” Garrett called cheerfully, walking into the kitchen.

Devon jumped and immediately regretted it.  “Is it?”

“Well, probably not for you.  I heard you getting sick earlier.  Feeling any better?”  He opened the refrigerator door.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.  “How are you so cheerful?”

“Product of working nights, I guess.  When I get a good night’s sleep, I’m a much happier person.”

“Right.”  She took another tentative sip of her drink.

“Are you going to be able to go sightseeing today?” he asked, pulling out a full banquet of food.

The night before, they had agreed that Garrett would take her around the city while Hadley had to work.  Devon really wanted the chance to be a tourist while she was here, but she knew that she wouldn’t get to see everything if she waited for Hadley to get home.

“Not sure,” she said, walking into the living room.  She sat on the couch and put her head between her knees.  Seeing that much food was making her want to run to the bathroom again.

“Well, I’ll whip you up something that will make you feel better, and we can get going.”

“You really don’t have to show me around…or make me food,” she groaned.

“Just some toast.  Drink up that water.  It’ll help,” Garrett said, popping some bread into the toaster.

“Okay,” she muttered.

She drank as much as she could manage.  He brought her a plate with plain toast and replaced her glass of water with another full one.  She took it without comment and tried to choke down the food.  It did help some, but she wasn’t a hundred percent better yet.  Garrett had created an elaborate breakfast plate for himself, and he ate it all in the same amount of time it took for her to finish her toast.

She tried standing again.  The headache was finally dissipating, and her stomach was feeling only partly queasy.  She could make it through another day.

“You ready?” he asked, coming back for her plate.

“I think so.”

“Great.  We better get going then.  Hadley gets off at three thirty today, so we have a good five hours to try to get in the best tourist traps out here before I have to go to work,” Garrett told her.

“Perfect.  If I can make it five hours, it’ll be a miracle,” Devon said.  She was happy that she had a tour guide even though Hadley was at work.

Garrett shook his head at her as he stuffed his wallet into his back pocket.  “Come on.  It’ll be good for you to get some fresh air.”

Devon grumbled something incoherent before standing.  She grabbed her purse from the table and followed Garrett to the elevator.  Riding the elevator might have been the worst part of the morning.  Garrett rested a hand on her back as he warily watched her.  She was pretty sure he was expecting her to burst any second, and she felt like she might.

When they finally reached the bottom of the huge complex, Devon uneasily walked out of the elevator.

“Let’s never do that again,” she murmured, clutching her stomach with one hand.

“I’ve got bad news for you.”

Devon glared up at him.

“Well, at least you won’t have to take the elevator for a few more hours,” Garrett offered.

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

“So, what did you want to see?”  He stood at the entrance, debating which direction to walk in.

“Everything,” Devon said with a shrug.

“I don’t think we can see everything by three o’clock.”

“The bean thing then,” Devon told him.

“The bean thing?”  He looked at her skeptically.

“Yeah, isn’t that what it’s called?  I don’t know.  I’ve never been there before,” she stated defensively.

“Come on.  You’ll figure it out,” he said, walking toward the river.

She started after him, walking past the House of Blues and onto the State Street Bridge that crossed the Chicago River.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked, staring out across the water.

“Well, it’s not the bean thing,” he said, shaking his head.  “It’s the Cloud Gate, and we call it The Bean, just The Bean.”

Devon rolled her eyes.  She hadn’t thought she was that far off.

“It’s in Millennium Park, not too far from here.”

He strode purposefully across the bridge.  Devon stopped for a second to take a picture.  She knew she couldn’t post it anywhere online or send it to her mom like she normally would.  No one really knew where she was, so it would totally blow her cover if she started posting pictures of Chicago.  But she wanted memories of where she had been even if they were just for her.

“While we’re playing tourist, I should let you know that directly ahead of us is the famous Chicago Theatre,” Garrett said, pointing out the giant red Chicago sign.

Devon snapped a photo because…hey, why not?

They continued through the busy streets, and despite having to avoid other tourists admiring the pretty buildings, walking seemed to help her stomach.  She still wasn’t prepared for food, but the fresh air was breezy, and Devon found that moving was helpful.

Garrett directed her down a side street and pointed out the glass exterior to the Joffrey Ballet.  Looking several stories up, she watched the dancers jumping about as they passed by the building.  They exited the cross street onto Michigan Avenue, and Millennium Park stood across from them.  Garrett showed her the way to The Bean, and she saw clusters of people were already surrounding the massive mirror sculpture.

From the perfect location, Devon could see the entire Chicago skyline in the reflection of the structure.  She crossed her arms and stared up at it, wondering what she would see if she saw her own reflection.  Would she see herself rounded and distorted like the city line was in some places or would she appear whole and perfect?

A part of her hoped to see herself rounded and distorted like she felt, but as she approached, she saw her reflection was like any other mirror—a lie.

“Want me to take your picture?” Garrett offered.

Breaking her out of her silent reverie, she shook her head.  “No, thanks.”

She didn’t want any pictures of her by The Bean.  It reflected the skyline, and that itself was the masterpiece.  Her image would only obscure the view.

“Are you sure?” he asked, extending his hand for her iPhone.

Devon pulled it out of his reach.  “No, really, I don’t want to be in any pictures.”