Pamela paced the kitchen, her worry lines deepening with each step. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows. She looked at her husband, Bjorn, who was sipping his morning coffee at the table, completely unbothered.
"I just don't know, Bjorn," Pamela said, her voice filled with concern. "Leaving Berenice alone in the house while we're at work... I'm not sure it's a good idea."
Bjorn chuckled, shaking his head. "Pam, she's a grown woman. She can handle herself."
Pamela glanced towards the sunroom, biting her lip. "Are you sure? I mean, she's... you know... Berenice."
As if on cue, a loud thump echoed from the sunroom. Pamela and Bjorn turned their heads in unison, eyes wide. They hurried to the doorway to find Berenice sprawled on the floor next to the couch, face down and snoring loudly, her limbs akimbo.
Bjorn raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his coffee. "I think?"
