Zeke woke to the soft chorus of birds outside his window, their songs slipping through the curtains like little messengers announcing that God had sustained him for yet another day. Morning light poured into the room in lazy golden streaks, touching the scattered books on his desk and the half-open Bible beside his bed. He had already finished his morning declarations — bold words spoken into the air with sleepy confidence — and now the house felt strangely still.

With a groan, he pushed himself off the bed, dragging his feet across the cold wooden floor before stopping at his desk. He stared down at the scribbled schedule for the day.

Not much to do, he thought.

Then suddenly — like lightning splitting a dark cloud — remembrance struck him.

Yesterday, Samantha never showed up at their usual meeting spot.

Zeke blinked once.

Maybe I should go check on her.

He slipped out of his room and headed downstairs, the old staircase creaking dramatically beneath every step as if narrating his movements to the entire house. Normally, Amanda would already be awake by now. She was always the first soul to rise — humming in the kitchen, yelling at a kettle, or acting like the self-appointed guardian of breakfast.

But today?

Silence.

No Amanda in the sitting room.

No Amanda in the kitchen.

Not even the sound of a spoon clinking against a cup.

That alone felt illegal.

Zeke frowned slightly before wandering toward her room. Without knocking — because boundaries were apparently optional in this household — he pushed the door open.

And froze.

The scene before him was so unexpected that his poor male brain nearly short-circuited.

Amanda...

...was sleeping.

Actually sleeping.

Not fake-sleeping.

Not “I’m awake but pretending to sleep so nobody bothers me” sleeping.

Real sleeping.

The curtains danced softly from the morning breeze, making strands of her hair move across the pillow like drifting ink. Blankets were twisted around her legs from what looked like a violent battle against dreams. The room smelled faintly of perfume, warm blankets, and the tragic remains of late-night snacks.

Zeke slowly approached her bed with the caution of a man inspecting an ancient cursed artifact.

“To think this creature rests...” he whispered in disbelief.

He leaned closer.

Maybe she had died.

Honestly, that explanation felt more believable.