Hours later…
A sound from the front door rang as it unlocked. Atlas stepped into the living area, not expecting anyone to welcome him home. It was late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—four hours past midnight.
But as he walked in, he froze, spotting a figure in the living area. His brows lifted as he approached, stopping several paces away from Lola. She was asleep, her arm on the table serving as a pillow, her head resting on it. The other hand lay loose at her side, a pencil held between her fingers.
Curious, he stepped closer and tilted his head, his eyes falling on the table. A small note lay beneath her pen, enough to let him imagine how she had fallen asleep in that position.
"If she's sleepy, she shouldn't force it."
