Once, twice, three times...
Though the sounds were barely perceptible, each one was like a sharp blade, sinking deep into her flesh, again and again.
...
Summer Thorne turned on the shower and stood under the stream of water for a long time.
Only when the skin on her fingertips had begun to wrinkle and turn pale did she finally reach out and turn off the water.
Back at the vanity, she looked at herself in the mirror but still couldn't make sense of anything.
Meanwhile, it remained completely silent outside.
Summer Thorne snapped back to reality, grabbed the bathrobe hanging on the wall, wrapped it around herself, and pulled open the bathroom door to step out.
The living room was empty and quiet, and the bedroom was likewise deserted.
The bed had been made with clean sheets. The plate and chopsticks he'd used to feed her had been cleared away, washed, and placed in the kitchen's dish rack. The pair of black leather shoes by the door was gone, too.
