It had been a week since Cassandra's imprisonment.
Rachel lay quietly on the bed, her fingers loosely curled against the sheets.
The room was peaceful, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the curtains as a breeze slipped through the slightly open window.
She shifted onto her left side, intending to get comfortable, but her movement brought her face toward the person lying beside her.
Maxwell was already watching her.
His head rested against the pillow, one arm tucked beneath it while his eyes followed every little movement she made.
There was a softness in his gaze that made Rachel's lips twitch, though the sadness lingering in her chest refused to disappear completely.
"You're missing your mama, aren't you?" he asked quietly.
Rachel's expression softened.
"Yes, Maxwell. I miss her a lot," she admitted.
