Chapter 20, in which Billie travels to Vegas and comes to a seismic realization.
I tended to think of sleep as something healing, freshening, and cleansing. I traced this somewhat peculiar notion to parental influence. I distinctly remembered – though I couldn’t have been more than four at the time — waddling after my mother one golden Saturday morning as Mom carefully demonstrated how to achieve “hospital corners,” the precise folding of sheet around mattress, the hands that most often held a sheaf of inky smelling mimeographs or art supplies smoothing the linens taut.