"Did you have a nightmare?"


    Forrest''s voice was gentle. "I was passing by to get some water and heard you shouting, so I knocked."


    Was she really shouting in her sleep? Had the nightmare frightened her that much?


    It must have been unconscious, M thought, nodding wearily. "I haven''t been sleeping well."


    Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lysander with a head full of blood, and the image of being trapped in a dark, narrow cell haunted her. It was exhausting.


    She hesitated, then asked, "Do you have any sleeping pills?"


    She couldn''t continue like this. If she kept losing sleep, her condition would deteriorate and she wouldn''t be able to focus on her design work.


    Forrest shook his head, disapproving. "Too many sleeping pills aren''t good for you."


    Seeing her disappointment, he hesitated before suggesting, "If you trust me, I could sit by your bed until you fall asleep."


    M was momentarily taken aback.


    Back in college, when she was stressed about project deadlines and couldn''t sleep, Forrest would set up a makeshift bed in the office, sitting beside her until she drifted off.


    But that was the past. Things had changed between them. It wasn''t appropriate anymore.


    M shook her head, refusing. "It''s not that I don''t trust you, I''m just notfortable with it."


    Forrest smiled softly.


    "I understand. I''ll ask around for some non-medicinal ways to help you sleep."


    "Thanks, I''ll try to figure something out too."


    M closed the door and locked it.


    The warm, dim hallway light cast long shadows as Forrest stood outside her door, listening to the click of the lock, and he chuckled softly.


    He leaned against the door frame, removed his sses, and pinched the bridge of his nose with a quiet sigh.


    After standing there for a moment, he decided against returning to the master bedroom. Instead, he opened the door to the guest room next to M''s and settled in for the night.


    ...


    That night, M tossed and turned before finally catching a brief sleep, her dark circles deepening as she headed to the kitchen the next morning.


    After breakfast, as Forrest was leaving, he mentioned offhandedly, "I heard about your residency issue from Vance. I''ll see if I can help."


    M perked up. She wasn''t too hopeful, but she was grateful nheless.


    Having one more person to help was always good.


    Once Forrest left, M was about to return to the guest room to work when Vance, who was clearing the table, stopped her.


    "Ms. Suthend, Mr. Forrest mentioned the study and studio are avable for your use if you need them."


    A studio? When did Forrest take up painting?


    Intrigued, M thanked him. Regardless, she needed a workspace.


    The guest room was, after all, meant for resting.


    Though Forrest didn''t mind sharing his space, M hesitated to invade the privacy


    of a study. So, she moved herptop, tablet, and drawings to the studio.


    The studio was spacious and bright, with a few easels covered in white cloth in the corner. M left them untouched and set up her own easel andputer in a more secluded corner.


    Once everything was in ce, she sat down and pulled out her phone.


    After chatting with Mirandast night, she had been too exhausted to check her missed calls and messages.


    There was a backlog of messages that had piled up during her stay at the Montgomery estate.


    She also needed to touch base with herwyer about the divorce proceedings.


    Weighing her priorities, M decided to call herwyer first. The divorce was still her main concern.


    "I''m not at the Montgomery estate anymore."


    When the call connected, M exined her current situation.