Sheila was up the next morning before it was dawn. Morning finally came, and soon the mansion was quiet as the sunlight crawled through the curtains and spilled across the cream sheets where she was sitting half, dressed and lost in thought.
Her coffee had gone cold on the saucer beside her. She'd been in that position, reminiscing about everything that happened with Jacob. And nearly three since she woke up, her phone buzzed against the bed, jolting her slightly out of her daze. She reached for it lazily at first, expecting a message from Arthur.
Sometimes he left a message before he left in the morning. But the moment her eyes caught the number flashing on the screen, her heart jumped.
There was no name. No contact photo also. It was just a strange number that she didn't recognise.
