The morning sun broke through a pale sweep of clouds, spilling soft gold across the apartment. The light filtered through the curtains, warmly touching everything with a sleepy glow — the nightstand's edge, the blanket's folds, and finally, Erisia's face.
She stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering as the warmth brushed her cheek. Half-awake, half-dreaming, she shifted under the sheets, her hand instinctively reaching toward the other side of the bed. The faint sound of rain had long stopped, leaving only the soft hum of the city outside.
Then, her phone began to ring.
The sound cut through the silence, sharp and persistent. Erisia groaned softly, patting around her side in search of it. Her fingers brushed against the cold surface of the phone, and she squinted as the screen lit up.
Beatrice.
