5th floor stairwell, 4:30 AM.
She awoke out of a dead sleep, something stirred and had shuddered against against her bedroom window. She sat up, clutching a pale sheet about her bare chest. But, wait..
While there was a subtle memory of having gone to bed with nothing on, Meg knew that was absurd. Perhaps a fantasy, but nothing real. She cautiously peeled the sheet down, and to her relief noted that she wore a dressing gown of white lace.
Climbing from bed, her concern was primarily of Christine. Her envy of the girl was barely surpassed by her admiration, and Meg crept out of 501 with the awareness of someone who had before been caught by chaperons. But she saw nobody in the hall, and gleefully hit the stairs with a rush of rebellion.