Abby woke the next morning to sunlight spilling through the window of Lucas’s and Celia’s guest room, which was really just Lucas’s home office with a futon squeezed against one wall. A desk crowded with files sat opposite her, and a corkboard dotted with notes hung above it. It wasn’t luxurious, but Abby didn’t care. By the time she had crawled onto the futon the night before, she had been so emotionally and physically drained that sleep had taken her almost instantly.
She reached down and picked up her phone from the floor beside the futon. It was still powered off. She had debated turning it back on before going to sleep, her thumb hovering over the button, but she had not been ready to face whatever waited for her back at the compound.
In the light of a new day, though, avoiding it f
