Lila
Hours. It had been hours since they'd spoken and all he'd sent was a two line text warning her not to call his phone unless it was an emergency, that he was working to get to her. Eventually, she'd gotten uncomfortable in her work clothes, and she didn't have a bag, so she went and found another of his huge hoodies and a pair of sport shorts with a tie waist. She looked like a child dressed in her father's clothes, but at least she was comfortable.
She'd tried turning on the television for company, then startled at even the slightest sound she couldn't quite catch because of it. She'd paced between the kitchen and living room. Down the hall. And in the entryway, before she gave up and lay on the couch. But she couldn't read or concentrate on anything.
