Morning arrived too quickly.
Sheila barely remembered falling asleep, yet her alarm rang with merciless precision, dragging her from dreams she couldn’t fully recall but knew were filled with rain, dim streetlights, and the steady, complicated presence of Atticus.
She groaned softly, reaching over to silence her phone before staring up at the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, like exhaustion had settled deep into her bones, but her mind was already racing ahead, replaying everything that had happened the night before.
Dinner.
The press.
His hand tightening around hers.
Her chest tightened at the memory, and she forced herself to sit up, pushing the thoughts aside before they could spiral into something she wasn’t ready to face.
Today wasn’t about feelings.
Today was about survival.
By
