**Third person**
Layla immediately put away the notebook.
“It doesn't mean anything,” she said to herself.
Ashley was long dead.
Then she placed the jotter back and then headed out.
******************************
Valerie walked into the knitting room filled with the soft click-clack of needles against yarn, the gentle hum of conversation, and the faint scent of coffee.
She was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater and took a seat at a small table, her eyes scanning the room.
She spotted her grandmother, Martha, sitting at a table near the window, her hands moving deftly over a pair of socks. Martha's face was framed by a halo of silver hair, and her eyes sparkled with a warm, inviting light.
Val approached her grandmother, a mix of excitement and dread coursing through her.
