The minutes crawled by like hours as Lily paced the length of the guest bedroom, her damp hair now dried into messy waves. Her bare feet made soft padding sounds against the plush carpet, matching the erratic rhythm of her thoughts. The phone in her hand had become both a lifeline and a torment – still no calls, no messages, nothing but that mockingly blank screen.
"Think, Lily, think!" she muttered to herself, running her fingers through her hair for the hundredth time. The gesture, so familiar now, did nothing to calm her racing mind. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat, every distant sound made her jump. The suite's elegant furnishings, all dark wood and rich fabrics, felt more like a gilded cage with each passing moment.
