Back upstairs, in the bedroom next to Ray’s, his sister Trinna stirred. Woken by the sound of cartoons, she glanced at her clock. They have a 9 in the morning on Saturdays? Why was I not informed? She let out a rather long yawn and started stretching, working out the knots. Finally, she reached down and sighed. Crap, this was my last one. I’ll need to get more. Like her brother, Trinna was a bed wetter. Guess they’re right about it being genetic.
Getting out of bed, Trinna shambled in a zombie-like fashion to her closet to double check her supply of Goodnites. She was indeed out, having forgotten to restock earlier in the week. It wouldn’t be a problem, but her parents insisted she hide her bed wetting from Ray, lest it affect his own ability to stay dry. She’d have to get more without him knowing, but that could wait until later.
She grabbed some random clothes and a towel, as well as a garbage bag, and went down the hall to the bathroom. Slipping out of her nightgown and wet Goodnite, which she placed in the garbage bag, Trinna stepped into the shower and turned on the water.
