It was the middle of the night when Eisley jolted awake, a wave of heat washing over her, accompanied by thirst. Her hands searched for Irwin, but the space beside her was empty. With a soft rustle of sheets, she opened her eyes, and the luminous glow of the moon spilt through the window.
The bed felt cold. She glanced around, and Eisley realized he was nowhere. The cool floor beneath her feet prompted a shiver. She grabbed her silky night jacket, its fabric gliding against her skin as she twisted the doorknob, the soft click echoing in the silence.
As she stepped into the dimly lit living room, the shadows danced around her. Her first instinct led her to the kitchen, where she immediately opened the fridge. The cool air rushed out, and she reached for a bottle of water, her throat aching for relief. But then something caught her eye—a small cup of ice cream tucked away in the corner.
