1 Our new intern Valerie boasted about pulling all-nighters, earning office-wide admiration as the "hustle queen." But while she thrived, I—the disciplined one—was crumbling. Dark circles deepened under my eyes with each of her sleepless nights. When she bragged about two hours of sleep, my heart pounded like a drum. My doctor was shocked. "Your organs are failing like a 60-year-old's," he warned. "This will kill you." But I slept eight hours nightly. Why was I dying? Confronting Valerie only drew colleagues' scorn. "If you're so tired," my boss sneered, "maybe the night shift suits you better." She won a major deal by being available 24/7. I collapsed dead on my night shift. Then I woke up—back to Valerie's first week. This time, I emptied a bottle of sleeping pills into her coffee. … “Hannah? What are you doing?” I had just finished grinding the pills into a fine powder and stirring them in when Valerie materialized behind me like a ghost. My hand jerked, and I fought to compose myself, turning around as if nothing had happened. “Valerie, what kind of coffee is this? Is this your secret? How can you work all week without a wink of sleep and still not be tired?” I forced a smile, but inside, I wanted to claw that perfect face of hers to shreds. Because I was the only one who knew the truth. The reason she was never tired was because she was siphoning her exhaustion directly into me. The first day Valerie started, she’d volunteered to organize a mountain of expense reports. It was a stack of files half a person high, yet she finished it in a single all-nighter. The boss was grinning from ear to ear. “Great work, Valerie! Go home and get some rest today!” But Valerie, who hadn’t slept a wink, was radiant. “No need, sir! I only need three hours of sleep a night!” I was standing right there, and I remember my head feeling foggy, my eyelids as heavy as lead. Later that day, I fell asleep in a meeting and got a harsh scolding from the boss. At the time, I didn't think anything of it, just that I hadn't rested well. But Valerie’s work hours grew longer and longer, from staying until 1 AM, then 3 AM, until finally, she stopped going home at all. The boss praised her dedication. She just smiled humbly. “I was born this way. I don’t need much sleep.” Meanwhile, my condition worsened. The circles under my eyes were so dark they looked like bruises. I could fall asleep standing up. Once, while I was at the copy machine, my vision suddenly went black. When I came to, Valerie was kneeling beside me, her face a mask of concern. “Hannah, are you okay? Should I call a doctor?” I looked at her glowing face, then at my own haggard reflection in the glass of the machine, and a chill snaked down my spine. Later, she accompanied the boss on a business trip and went seventy-two hours without sleep. The morning she returned, I woke up with a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. It was so intense I fell to my knees, gasping for air. I called the boss to ask for a sick day, only to be met with his cold laughter. “Sick again? Hannah, your performance has really been slipping lately! Look at Valerie! She’s been pulling double shifts without a single complaint. Maybe you just don’t want your bonus this year!” I dragged myself to the hospital, where I was told my body’s vital functions were deteriorating rapidly, worse than those of a sixty-year-old. Devastated, I confronted Valerie, but no one believed me. My colleagues thought I was jealous. The boss, in a fit of rage, banished me to the night shift. I died without ever understanding how she did it. “Oh, it’s just a regular coffee concentrate! You can buy it online. Is something wrong, Hannah?” Valerie’s voice pulled me back to the present. I realized my fingers were digging into her wrist. “You’re hurting me…” she whimpered. Our colleagues immediately swarmed us, their fingers pointing at me. “Hannah, why are you bullying her? Valerie already told you, she’s special. She doesn’t need sleep. You can’t get that from drinking a cup of coffee.” “Yeah, Hannah, look at the bags under your eyes. You’re the one staying up all night. A little self-discipline would do you more good than coffee!” Their faces were full of scorn. None of them knew I was in bed by 10 PM every single night, my routine as regular as a clock. “I’m just concerned about Valerie’s health,” I said, releasing her. “Pulling all-nighters like that can kill you.” I walked back to my desk, but I kept an eye on her out of the corner of my vision. Only when I saw her drain the entire cup of coffee did I relax. Sure enough, before the end of the workday, Valerie started yawning. I seized the opportunity. “Valerie, you’re nodding off. Maybe you should head home and rest?” She was about to refuse, but other colleagues, worried she might actually collapse, chimed in and urged her to leave. She had no choice but to abandon her plans for another all-nighter. That night, at 10 PM sharp, I went to bed. Let’s see you stay awake now, after a full dose of sleeping pills, I thought. 2 The next morning, I woke to bright sunlight streaming through my window. For the first time in weeks, my body felt light and refreshed. A wave of joy washed over me. The sleeping pills had worked. But a second later, a sharp pain shot through my temples. My vision went black, and my knees slammed into the floor. A violent nausea roiled in my stomach, as if I’d spent the night chugging cheap liquor. I knelt over the toilet, dry-heaving, my hands trembling as I pulled up Valerie’s social media feed. Her latest post was from 3 AM. “Still going strong at the club! A Long Island Iced Tea and three shots of tequila down, and I can still party all night!” I stared at the screen, a metallic taste rising in my throat. She used alcohol to fight off the sleeping pills. No wonder I felt like I had a raging hangover. She hadn’t slept at all. She’d been drinking all night. When I finally dragged myself to the office, I found Valerie, her makeup flawless, holding court as the center of attention. “Valerie, you were out until 4 AM and you still look this good? You’re incredible!” “Seriously, I’d be dead on my feet!” Valerie tossed her hair, unable to hide her smug satisfaction. “What can I say? I’m just built different. Alcohol doesn’t really affect me.” Her eyes darted to me, and she covered her mouth in mock horror. “Oh my god, Hannah, you look terrible! Don’t tell me you were out all night again?” Every head in the office snapped in my direction. “She looks like a ghost!” someone blurted out. I stood in the doorway, my face chalky white, my lips a sickly shade of gray, the dark circles under my eyes like deep bruises. “I…” I started to speak, but a wave of dizziness hit me, and I nearly fell. Valerie rushed to steady me. “Hannah, you have to take care of yourself. You can’t let your… nightlife… affect your work. You’ll slow down the whole team.” Her words shifted the atmosphere instantly. “So that’s why she’s always so tired lately. Her nights are more exciting than her days.” “She acted so professional before. The second she gets a promotion, her true colors come out.” “Who knows what she’s doing all night? Probably busy chasing guys.” The whispers came from all sides, but I didn’t even have the strength to argue. Looking at Valerie’s phony, concerned face, I couldn’t figure out how she was doing this. But I couldn’t just wait around to die. Suddenly, an idea came to me. I went straight to the boss’s office and handed in my resignation. He slammed his hands on the desk. “Hannah, you’ve been sleeping on the job for weeks! I should have fired you already, and now you have the nerve to quit?” “Fine! You walk out that door today, and I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted in this entire industry!” I didn’t hesitate. I walked out without looking back. My colleagues didn’t bat an eye at my resignation. Only my supervisor, Diane, stopped me. “Hannah, I trained you myself. I know you’re not the kind of person they’re saying you are. Is there something going on that’s affecting you?” My nose stung, and I nearly burst into tears. Diane had been my mentor, the only person who still seemed to believe in me. “You fought your way out of a small town and worked yourself to the bone to make it in this city. Are you really going to give all that up now?” I clenched my fists. Of course I wasn’t. But before my career, my future, my dreams… I had to stay alive. “I’m sorry, Diane. I have to resign.” Back at my apartment, I drew the curtains, turned off all the lights, and prepared for a long, deep sleep. If sleeping pills didn’t work, then I would just cut myself off from Valerie completely. Surely, she couldn’t transfer her exhaustion to me then. 3 I slept until the sun was high in the sky. When I woke up, I felt fantastic. “Did it work?” I shot up in bed, feeling an unprecedented lightness in my body. For a moment, I was so overcome with relief that I started to cry. Valerie’s dark magic couldn't touch me anymore! But just as I finished getting dressed and opened my door, ready to go out and celebrate with a good meal, a sudden, crushing pain seized my chest. My vision went black, and I collapsed. The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital. “You’re awake. Your neighbor found you just in time,” a nurse said, frowning at me. “You had symptoms of a heart attack. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t last another six months.” I ignored her, grabbing my phone and opening the company group chat. The Boss: “Valerie worked for 24 hours straight to get the proposal done before the client left. That’s what true dedication looks like!” Below his message was a long chain of praise and congratulations from my former colleagues. I stared at the screen, a bone-deep chill spreading through me. I had already quit. Valerie and I weren’t colleagues anymore. Why was I still being affected? A profound sense of hopelessness washed over me. Was there no escape? “Young people these days have no regard for their own lives!” the doctor grumbled as he reviewed my chart. “We had another young professional die of exhaustion last month. Just like you, she swore up and down she wasn't staying up late.” My head snapped up. “She said she wasn’t?” “That’s right. Claimed her colleague was working 24/7 and transferring the fatigue to her,” the doctor scoffed. “Ever heard such a strange thing? Probably just pulling all-nighters playing video games and too embarrassed to admit it.” I grabbed his sleeve. “What was her name?” Her name was Laura. I found her address from her old company’s records and went to her home. Her mother answered the door. “Ma’am, I was a friend of Laura’s. I wanted to ask… how did she pass away?” The woman’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She ushered me inside. The first thing I saw was a photo of Laura on the mantelpiece. Her face was pale, the shadows under her eyes dark and bruised—she looked exactly like I did now. “My poor daughter. We never knew why she died,” her mother sobbed. “I was with her every night, we went to bed on time, but every morning she was more and more exhausted. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong.” My heart began to pound. “Did she ever mention a colleague named Valerie?” Laura’s mother shook her head, confused. “I don’t know. She just said someone at her company could work around the clock without sleeping. How is that possible…? This was the last photo taken of her. Here, look.” The moment I saw the picture, the hair on my arms stood on end. In the photo, Laura looked terribly ill, clearly forcing a smile. And in front of her, standing beside their boss with a champagne flute in her hand and a radiant smile on her face, was a familiar figure. It was Valerie. In that instant, my back went ramrod straight. I understood. I finally knew how Valerie was transferring her fatigue to me and to Laura. The truth was hidden right there. After I was discharged, I reapplied for my old job as if nothing had happened. When Diane saw my condition, she was horrified. “Hannah, are you sure you’re well enough to work? I can just mark you down for an extended leave.” I shook my head, my voice weak but firm. “No. I need to come back.” Diane looked like she wanted to argue but eventually relented. In the few days I’d been gone, the company had been turned upside down.
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