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22: The Cold Front

last update publish date: 2026-03-02 20:13:39

Hannah’s POV.

The phone on the nightstand didn't ring. It shivered. The vibration against the glass top sounded like a hornet trapped in a jar, sharp and aggressive. I opened my eyes, my head still heavy from the wine and the strange, deep sleep I’d found on Alexander’s sofa. For a second, I forgot where I was. The sheets felt like silk, and the air smelled like clean rain.

Then I saw the screen. 47 Missed Calls. 112 Text Messages.

The names jumped out at me: Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

I grabbed
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