Angel didn’t sleep much that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, her mind replayed the same thoughts over and over again: the strange calls, the questions, the way Dean had hesitated before answering her. It wasn’t fear exactly. Not the kind that made you panic.
It was something quieter.
Something heavier.
The feeling that something was shifting beneath their feet.
Beside her, Dean slept on his side, one arm stretched across the bed where she had been lying earlier. Even in sleep, his brow was slightly furrowed, like his mind refused to rest completely.
She watched him for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
For the first time since she met him, she realized how much responsibility he carried.
Not just as a father.
Not just as a man running companies and
