I woke up after a nap.
The room was dim, the curtains half-drawn, the light outside already fading into early evening. My body felt heavy from sleep, my head still dull from earlier. For a moment, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening.
Zander hadn’t come back since he left angrily.
I checked the time on the clock beside the bed.
5:07 p.m.
I pushed myself up slowly and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. The house felt too quiet, as if it were holding its breath. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but exhaustion had dragged me under without asking.
I stood and stepped out of the room.
The hallway stretched ahead of me, wide and spotless, my footsteps barely making a sound against the polished floor as I walked downstairs. When I reached the living room, it was empty.
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