. . . DANTE Eleanor layed sprawled across my chest, her breathing steady and soft, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft silver sheen on our entwined forms. My eyes, though heavy with fatigue, refused to close. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a whirlpool of unease and uncertainty. Suddenly, the stillness was shattered by a sharp buzz. Eleanor's phone vibrated on the nightstand, an intrusive sound in the quiet room. My heart skipped a beat, a bad feeling gnawing at my gut. With a careful but swift movement, I reached out for the phone, my hand trembling slightly. I knew I shouldn't invade her privacy, but something urged me to look. It was a bad feeling. As I unlocke

