Dear Gentle Readers,
At last this chapter will tie up the loose end about Ava being Raphael’s girlfriend...
Please do enjoy. Grazie mille.
Yours,
Ethan
***
Brigitte arrived in the morning, carrying a small insulated container. Seeing that Ava’s complexion had improved slightly, she let out a relieved sigh.
"You had a high fever last night," Brigitte said as she set the container on the table. "This is the porridge I made this morning. You should have some."
Ava, touched by her kindness, nodded and took the bowl. Brigitte, however, subtly glanced around the apartment, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Last night, she had mentioned to Mr. Vanderbilt that Ava’s husband was always out early and returned late. Yet, in all the time she had lived across the hall, she had never once seen the man.
"Ava, is your husband really that busy?" Brigitte asked, her tone casual but probing. "You had such a high fever last night, and he didn’t come to take care of you."
Ava's grip on the spoon tightened slightly. She knew she needed to resolve this husband situation soon. The more questions people asked, the higher the risk of exposure. Rachel. Rachel could probably handle this. With her vast network, she could surely find a reliable man to act the part when necessary.
"He travels a lot for work," Ava answered smoothly, keeping her expression neutral.
Brigitte didn’t press further, simply nodding. "Just make sure to take care of yourself."
As Ava took her first sip of the warm porridge, Brigitte’s phone rang. The moment she glanced at the screen, her lips curved into a small smile.
Raphael.
Ava didn't need to ask to know who it was.
Brigitte answered the call, her tone carrying a slight edge of complaint. "You didn’t even call me back last night."
Raphael chuckled on the other end, quickly pacifying her by mentioning a surprise he had prepared. Brigitte’s initial annoyance faded, replaced by excitement. She shot Ava a quick smile before rushing out the door, completely forgetting about her unfinished breakfast.
The moment she left, Ava exhaled. She got up to rinse the bowl and return it when—
Ding-dong.
She hesitated. Brigitte couldn’t be back so soon, could she?
Opening the door, she froze.
Standing there were Diana and Raphael.
Ava’s heart sank.
Diana, looking elegant as ever despite her recent injury, gave Ava a warm smile. "Ava, were you frightened by what happened yesterday?" She reached out and took Ava’s hand gently. "Raphael doesn’t know how to comfort people, so I brought him along to check on you."
Ava, struggling to hide her shock, turned her gaze to Raphael. He blinked at her—a silent message she couldn’t decipher.
Raphael already knew she was married. Didn’t he consider that coming here might lead to him running into her husband?
What the hell was he thinking?
Raphael, for his part, was also taking a gamble. Thankfully, Ava’s so-called husband wasn’t home.
If Diana discovered the truth now, Raphael knew exactly where he’d end up—back at the Vanderbilt estate, under his uncle’s strict training. He had barely escaped that fate the first time. There was no way he was going back.
So, for now, he had to play along.
Diana, ever the refined woman, studied Ava with genuine fondness. She had seen enough in this city to recognize a girl who had fought her own battles.
She took Ava’s hand, then Raphael’s, linking them together briefly before patting them.
"Raphael, you need to be good to Ava," she said firmly. "You’re still immature—you need someone to guide you."
Ava opened her mouth, desperate to correct the misunderstanding—but the elevator doors slid open before she could say a word.
They all turned to look.
Brigitte.
She stood there, frozen in place. Her eyes darted between the three of them, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
Diana smiled at Ava, though there was a subtle change in her demeanor—a flicker of distance.
"Ava," she said gently, though there was an underlying firmness to her tone. "Let’s go inside and talk properly, shall we?"
Ava had no choice but to step aside, allowing them in.
Diana walked in first, composed as ever. Raphael, gripping Brigitte’s wrist to keep her from causing a scene, followed closely behind. Ava trailed after them, shutting the door.
She could already tell—this conversation was going to be a disaster.
As the hostess, Ava instinctively moved to make tea, though her hands felt slightly unsteady.
Diana sat upright on the couch, her posture calm yet unmistakably authoritative—the stance of a woman accustomed to negotiations.
"Speak."
Raphael jumped in immediately, pulling Brigitte to sit beside him.
"Mom, this is my girlfriend, Brigitte," he announced. "Ava is my cousin’s interior designer. I had no choice but to introduce her to you as my girlfriend before."
Diana’s expression didn’t change.
Her gaze flickered to Ava. "You had plenty of time to clarify this before, didn’t you?"
Ava felt a weight settle in her stomach.
Diana slowly rose from her seat.
"Ava, forget what I said earlier," she stated. "You’re a capable young woman. As for you, Raphael—you’ll return to the Vanderbilt estate this afternoon."
Raphael tensed.
Diana didn’t acknowledge Brigitte.
Brigitte, clearly upset, spoke up before she could stop herself.
"Mrs. Richardson, what I said earlier was true! Ava and Mr. Vanderbilt—"
Diana cut her off.
"Alexander is an adult, he makes his own choices," she said, her voice icily controlled. "Telling me won’t change anything. I may be his elder, but I don’t interfere in his personal affairs."
Her gaze landed on Ava once more.
There was something calculating in it.
Ava didn’t look like the type of woman who could sway Alexander.
Yet Diana had seen Ava in vulnerable moments—her stubbornness, her resilience.
If she had played her cards right, perhaps Alexander would take the bait.
Diana had misjudged situations before, but she would not interfere.
"Do as you wish," she murmured before leaving.
Silence blanketed the room.
Ava rubbed her forehead. "Mr. Richardson, take your girlfriend with you."
Raphael, knowing better than to argue, turned to Brigitte with a soft smile. "Darling, let’s go. We’ll talk in your apartment."
Brigitte didn’t budge.
Her eyes bore into Ava, filled with betrayal.
"You really are something else," she hissed. "I actually thought you were my friend. But you—" she laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Forget it. We’re done."
Raphael quickly ushered her away, whispering reassurances.
Ava shut the door behind them.
For the first time, her apartment felt suffocating.
She had wanted to start fresh here, but now—now, she was caught in another tangled mess.
Her new neighbor was a mistress.
Her only friend here now despised her.
Maybe… maybe it was better to go back to Le Châteauesque Manor after all.
Ava packed a small bag and took Rex back to Le Châteauesque Manor, where at least she only had to avoid Alexander...
---
(From here, Ava will be referred to as Serena, as Aunt Torres and the Vanderbilt staff recognize her as “Serena” or “Miss Morales”, Alexander’s wife).
Upon seeing her return, Aunt Torres practically beamed.
"Miss Morales, you’ve finally come to your senses!"
Serena sighed. "Aunt Torres, is there a temple nearby? I think I need to burn incense. I’ve had nothing but bad luck this year."
Aunt Torres chuckled, shaking her head.
As Serena settled in, her relief was short-lived.
Because Alexander was coming home tonight.
Aunt Torres hesitated before breaking the news. "Miss Morales, have you and Mr. Vanderbilt spoken about tonight? His assistant called earlier to inform me that he’ll be dining here."
Ava stiffened.
Why was Alexander coming back? Didn’t he usually stay at his hotel?
Hadn’t Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. given him any other tasks to keep him occupied?
For a brief moment, Serena considered telling Alexander the truth.
At least then, she wouldn’t have to keep up this endless charade—not just with him, but with Raphael’s family, too.
But then she thought about Alexander’s clear disdain for the Vanderbilt family—and for her supposed identity as his wife. The moment he found out the truth, everything would unravel.
She exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Aunt Torres, I’m feeling unwell. I won’t come down for dinner. Please don’t call me."
Aunt Torres frowned. "Miss Morales, I used that excuse last time. Mr. Vanderbilt wasn’t pleased."
Serena shook her head. "It doesn’t matter. There's nothing left to salvage between us."
To be precise, it wasn’t her relationship with Alexander that mattered—it was Mrs. Vanderbilt’s.
Serena knew that if she ever tried to approach him under the guise of Mrs. Vanderbilt, it would only fuel his resentment. He had made it clear, time and time again, that he wanted nothing to do with the woman bearing his last name. Just like that night, when he transferred eight million dollars to sever any lingering ties, he would do the same without hesitation if she clung to that identity.
If she had introduced herself as Mrs. Vanderbilt from the very beginning, Alexander never would have spared her a second glance.
Aunt Torres hesitated, pressing her lips together as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. In the end, she simply sighed.
That evening, when Alexander stepped into the villa, he shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it on the coat rack without much thought.
The rich scent of food drifted through the air, carrying the warmth of a home he never truly considered his. It had been a long day, full of back-to-back meetings, and exhaustion pressed against his temples.
Aunt Torres, ever attentive, approached immediately. "Mr. Vanderbilt."
Alexander barely acknowledged her, his mind elsewhere. His visits to the manor had become more frequent, though never out of sentiment. His grandfather’s unexpected inspections forced him to stay a few nights, ensuring that everything appeared in order.
"Dinner is ready, Mr. Vanderbilt. Please have some," Aunt Torres said, motioning for the servants to bring out the dishes.
Alexander sat down, reaching for his utensils when a faint noise pricked his ears. A bark.
He frowned. Had he imagined it?
His gaze swept the room, but nothing seemed out of place.
"Where is she?"
Aunt Torres hesitated, then replied carefully, "Miss Morales said she’s not feeling well."
Alexander’s brow furrowed.
That didn’t sound like the woman he knew. If she was sick, she would have at least shown up just to catch a glimpse of him—if only to remind him of her existence. Her persistence, her unwavering gaze, the way she clung to his every movement… none of that matched the image of someone who would willingly avoid him twice in a row.
Still, whatever her reasons were, Alexander had no interest in prying.
Upstairs, Serena sat hunched over her laptop, the glow from the screen casting shadows across her face.
She had spent hours securing the lowest prices for materials, but the sandalwood flooring remained an issue. It was a specialty product, one that required a reservation years in advance, and the supplier in Charleston was notoriously selective.
She estimated that she had about six months before she needed it delivered. That meant she had to find a way to Charleston soon, to personally negotiate with the supplier.
But not tonight.
Even if she packed her bags and left right now, it wouldn’t make a difference. She had a little time to plan.
She scanned through the material sheets once more, double-checking every detail before turning her attention to the layout of the Manhattan house.
Alexander had helped her more times than she could count. The least she could do was make sure his home turned out perfect.
Just as her fingers brushed the keyboard, a sharp bark pierced the silence.
Serena’s head snapped up.
She stood quickly, moving toward the window. Down in the garden, she spotted Rex darting across the lawn, barking excitedly.
Her stomach twisted.
Didn’t Aunt Torres lock him up? How did he get out?
Her heart pounded. Alexander was home. If he found out that Rex was here, the consequences would be… unimaginable.
Ava arranged to meet Rachel at a café. As they settled in, Rachel casually mentioned that she and Tom had gotten back together, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding. Ava knew how much Rachel loved Tom, so she bit her tongue and didn’t say anything.Instead, she got straight to the point. "Rachel, help me find someone to temporarily play the role of my husband."Rachel, who had just taken a sip of her coffee, nearly choked. "Cough, cough, cough—" She struggled for a moment, then stared at Ava in disbelief. "Alexander still doesn’t know your identity?"Ava shook her head, cupping her coffee mug with both hands.In her mind, Alexander was her boss—her benefactor. That was how she viewed him. But there was no denying the lingering memories of that night, the way his presence had consumed her. Beyond the physical intensity that left its mark, there was that thirty-second kiss—brief yet unforgettable, like a slow-burning ember she couldn’t fully extinguish.She had pushed those thoug
Ava arranged to meet Rachel at a café. As they settled in, Rachel casually mentioned that she and Tom had gotten back together, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding. Ava knew how much Rachel loved Tom, so she bit her tongue and didn’t say anything.Instead, she got straight to the point. "Rachel, help me find someone to temporarily play the role of my husband."Rachel, who had just taken a sip of her coffee, nearly choked. "Cough, cough, cough—" She struggled for a moment, then stared at Ava in disbelief. "Alexander still doesn’t know your identity?"Ava shook her head, cupping her coffee mug with both hands.In her mind, Alexander was her boss—her benefactor. That was how she viewed him. But there was no denying the lingering memories of that night, the way his presence had consumed her. Beyond the physical intensity that left its mark, there was that thirty-second kiss—brief yet unforgettable, like a slow-burning ember she couldn’t fully extinguish.She had pushed those though
(In this chapter, Ava will only be referred to as Serena Morales when the context is about Alexander’s wife otherwise she will be referred as “Ava/Miss Alvarez”, the designer)---Ava jolted back to reality, her heart racing. She quickly straightened up, putting distance between them.Alexander, still leaning against the couch, remained still, eyes closed, as if nothing had happened.Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was exhaustion—but for a brief moment, she wondered if he had even been awake.Her cheeks burned.Hurriedly, she pulled the blanket over him, barely taking a breath before making her escape.The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Alexander’s eyes flickered open. He glanced upward, a shadow of confusion in his gaze. But almost as quickly, he shut them again, dismissing the moment as a drunken dream.Outside the hotel, the cool night breeze helped Ava collect herself.Her fingers brushed over her lips.The first time had been during that ridiculous truth-or-dare game—
Ava hesitated for a moment before picking up the medicine box. She had no choice but to go through with this. “Mr. Vanderbilt, where are you injured?”The scent of blood in the air suddenly made sense—his old wound must have reopened. But Alexander said nothing. Instead, after a moment of silence, he slowly turned his back and shrugged off his jacket.Ava’s breath caught in her throat.The deep, crisscrossing wounds covering his back were brutal—angry red gashes that hadn’t yet begun to heal. Her hands trembled, and the medicine box slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a sharp clatter.“Mr. Vanderbilt, what happened to you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.Alexander didn’t respond, but through the mirror in front of him, he could see her expression—genuine shock, her pupils quivering with worry. For some reason, that look unsettled him.Ava quickly bent down, grabbing the medicine box with shaky hands. The fabric of his shirt
The next morning, Ava awoke to find Alexander already seated on the opposite sofa. His posture was composed, his face unreadable as he scanned through a stack of documents.She quickly rubbed her eyes, straightening up. The air between them was oddly quiet. She stole a glance at the clock on the wall.Six o’clock.Even on a day off, he was up this early?"Mr. Vanderbilt?" Her voice was still laced with sleep, soft and uncertain.Alexander didn’t look up, merely responding with a low grunt as he neatly folded a document.Realizing she should freshen up, Ava hurried to the bathroom. When she emerged, she hesitated before asking, "Mr. Vanderbilt, would you like some breakfast? I can bring something up for you. Also, your back injury—should we go to the hospital today?"Alexander flipped another page, his tone indifferent. "Whatever’s fine."Taking that as permission, Ava grabbed her coat and headed downstairs to fetch breakfast. ---The hotel's breakfast buffet was already bustling, but
Dear Gentle Readers, Please enjoy... Soon Alexander’s proposal to Ava will come! Grazie mille. Yours, E. C.--- Back at the Upper West Side, Ava allowed herself a moment of rest before her phone rang. It was a call from one of her former business partners—the same one who had recently canceled their order. This time, however, they were calling to reinstate it.She exhaled in relief, pressing her fingers against her temples to soothe her lingering tension. At least things were looking up on that front.But as she leaned back against the couch, her thoughts drifted to Alexander’s injuries. The scars on his back had been brutal, and while she knew Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. was strict, punishing Alexander without investigating the truth was harsh.More than anything, she understood the underlying reason for Alexander's tolerance toward this marriage—it wasn’t for love or companionship. It was for his grandfather.As the clock neared seven, Ava debated calling the old man to speak on Alexander’
Alexander, unfazed, merely shot the waiter a glance.The waiter smiled knowingly. "Enjoy your meal."Ava cleared her throat. "Mr. Vanderbilt, you probably don’t go out to eat with women much. This restaurant caters specifically to couples."She spoke lightly, without a trace of embarrassment, as if it were nothing more than an amusing coincidence.Alexander remained composed. "You seem familiar with this place. Do you come here often with your husband?"Her fingers stiffened slightly around the menu."Um… maybe once or twice."Once or twice?His frown deepened.Her husband had only brought her to a place like this once or twice?It didn’t sit right with him, but he let it go. It wasn’t his concern.Ava quickly redirected her focus, her eyes falling on Alexander’s hand.His fingers rested on the table near the scattered red roses. The contrast—the stark white of his skin against the deep crimson of the petals—created a visually striking image.It was… artistic.She wanted to paint it la
A week passed without incident. Both Ava and Alexander were in Charleston for business.Ava was overseeing a project when Aunt Mona suddenly appeared, visibly distressed. Her eyes were red from crying as she clutched Ava’s hands desperately."Ava, I beg you! You know Mr. Vanderbilt, don’t you? He has connections. Please, help me—Jared has been detained. If he goes to jail, his life will be ruined!"Ava tensed at the mention of Jared. Her cousin had never brought anything but trouble. Yet, seeing Aunt Mona so desperate, she couldn't turn away completely. She sighed, rubbing her temples."I’ll try," she said, reluctant but unable to ignore her uncle and aunt’s kindness in the past.Aunt Mona’s grip tightened as she wiped away fresh tears. "Jared only came back for a visit, and now this… If something happens to him, I won’t be able to go on living!"Ava exhaled sharply. "Aunt, crying won’t solve anything. I’ll see what I can do, but Jared assau
"Ava..." Rita expected her cousin to be upset, maybe even furious, but Ava's expression was unexpectedly calm—relieved, even."Rita, thank you, but I can ride with someone else. Mr. Vanderbilt is not in a good mood today, so I'd rather not make him angrier," Ava said, her voice light yet decisive.Rita frowned, puzzled. Why was Alexander in a bad mood? And why did Ava sound as though she had expected it? These two didn’t look like a couple who had spent the night together—if anything, they seemed even more distant than before.Meanwhile, across the venue, Alexander approached Hugo’s table with long, measured strides, his expression stormy. His suit, tailored to perfection, couldn't mask the tension in his shoulders or the sharp, unreadable look in his dark eyes.Victoria, however, didn't follow. She had veered off to chat with other socialites, her posture poised as if she had already won some silent battle.Hugo, who had been lazily swirling the whiskey in his glass, looked up with a
The crowd that had been eagerly watching the drama slowly dispersed, the tension in the air fading like a dissipating storm. To put on a show of sisterly affection, Victoria personally escorted Michelle to the car, ensuring that all eyes saw her as the graceful and understanding older cousin.Ava, however, remained rooted in place, her body instinctively tensing as Alexander approached. She wasn’t sure why, but she had an urge to step back. Yet, she forced herself to stand her ground, lifting her gaze to meet his. He loomed over her, his dark eyes locked onto hers as if searching for something.Her expression, however, was unreadable—calm, indifferent, as if last night's intimacy had been nothing more than a passing dream."Ava," he murmured, his voice low. There was something he wanted to say.Before he could continue, Victoria returned, her tone carefully measured, yet laced with subtle authority.“Xander, breakfast is ready downstairs. You guys probably haven't eaten yet. Let’s all
Alexander was not alone. Hugo Beaumont and Colton Valcrosse stood on either side of him, their towering presences only adding to the weight of his arrival. The air was thick with tension, an unspoken shift settling over the gathered crowd.Michelle, still sitting on the ground, felt her stomach drop the moment she caught sight of Alexander. Humiliation burned through her veins. Of all people to witness her in this pitiful state, it had to be him, the person she had a crush on. Could anything be worse?Alexander’s gaze swept over the scene, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "What’s going on?" His voice was calm, detached—so effortlessly composed that it was hard to believe he had been a man consumed by raw passion just the night before.Victoria wasted no time approaching him, her heels clicking against the polished floor with urgency. "Last night, a bodyguard mistakenly drank the wrong drink and harmed Michelle," she explained, her voice carrying just the right balance of concern and
- please read to the very end of the chapter - Ava woke to the cold touch of the hardwood floor against her skin. Her nightgown felt strangely loose, slipping slightly off her shoulder as she groggily pushed herself up. A dull ache radiated from her waist, making her wince as she realized her lower body was sprawled on the floor while her legs still rested on the bed.Had she fallen off in the middle of the night?She rubbed her temples, feeling weak and disoriented. The last thing she clearly remembered was taking a drink from Alexei. After that, everything was a blur—just a deep thirst and the vague sensation of searching for water. Her mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but nothing came.Ava exhaled in relief. At least she hadn’t embarrassed herself in front of anyone. She must have somehow returned to her room early. However, a new problem presented itself—she hadn’t brought any extra clothes, and the silky sleepwear Rita had given her wasn’t appropriate for stepping outside.Jus
Ava clung to Alexander’s waist, her movements hesitant, unsure of how to respond. The only thing she could manage was wrapping her arms around his neck."It tickles," she murmured, her voice breathy.His hot breath fanned against her skin, seeping through the thin fabric of her dress, igniting a sensation that sent shivers down her spine.Alexander, already on edge from her teasing, tightened his grip on her waist. His voice dropped, husky and deep."So, what should I do to relieve your itch?" He had never imagined himself uttering such flirtatious words, but with Ava, they came naturally.She buried her face into the crook of his neck, her lips brushing against his skin. "Husband, you’re really good... it feels so good."Downstairs, the night was alive with murmurs of conversation and footsteps, but none of it mattered. Alexander held Ava closer, shielding her from the world as if nothing else existed beyond them.Ava whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the moment, but before she could
The pool area buzzed with activity. Waiters weaved through the guests, offering a selection of drinks, fresh fruit, and delicate pastries to those lounging or swimming. Amid the chatter and clinking of glasses, a waiter approached Ava with a light blue cocktail, placing it on the table in front of her.Alexei leaned in, his voice laced with amusement. "Drink it," he said, watching her reaction carefully.Ava ignored him, keeping her gaze steady on the water.Alexei smirked and moved even closer, his breath warm against her ear. "What’s wrong? Do you want me to feed you? Mouth to mouth, perhaps?"Knowing Alexei, he was more than capable of following through on that threat. Without another word, she grabbed the glass and downed the drink in one go. The alcohol burned on the way down, making her cough.Alexei reached out instinctively to pat her back, but she pushed him away."Mr. Volkov, Farah likes you," Ava said flatly. "Even if you help me
Rita led Ava through the vast grounds, passing from the lively seafood section to the entertainment areas. The sprawling estate was designed for indulgence, featuring everything from Olympic-sized swimming pools to high-adrenaline bungee jumps and a state-of-the-art shooting range. The event was in full swing, with guests scattered in various spots, enjoying their freedom to partake in whatever entertainment suited them.By the time they reached the grand dessert display—a magnificent ten-meter-long spread of exquisitely crafted pastries—chefs had already begun preparing fresh seafood under glass enclosures, while clusters of socialites chatted over cocktails nearby.“Farah hosts these gatherings every year, though never on a fixed schedule,” Rita explained as they approached the desserts. “It could be spring, summer, or fall. The chefs she brings in have all worked for the Vanderbilt family before. Michelin-starred talents—worth more than some pro athletes. The food is exceptional.”
As Ava finished helping Rita with her painting, she glanced over and saw Rita on the phone, her voice light and cheerful. Only then did Ava realize that Rita’s driver had already left.Rita returned with a bright smile. “Ava, do you have any plans for tonight or tomorrow morning?”Ava thought for a moment. Her father was still unconscious, and the construction in Manhattan was progressing smoothly. Aside from picking up Rex tomorrow afternoon, she had nothing pressing. “Not really.”Rita clapped her hands in excitement. “That’s great!”Without warning, she linked her arm with Ava’s and pulled her toward the roadside. “I absolutely must treat you to something amazing today! I guarantee you’ve never tasted anything like it before!”Ava was about to protest when she spotted a sleek black luxury car parked ahead. Her stomach twisted. She knew that car.Alexander’s car.Before she could react, Rita had already opened the door and gently nudged her inside.“Xander, I brought Ava along. You
Dear Gentle Readers, This author was denied promotion & the app actually said that this story does not perform well with only 4 readers and 2 comments thus no ads since last week... This author refuses to believe that especially when he saw at least 7 people liked & gave a thumbsup on the last free chapter. Can you please help this author by giving a thumbsup and commenting on this chapter, please? So this author has proof when consulting and reporting this to his editor tomorrow morning. As a token of gratitude for your generous help, please enjoy this chapter free of charge... Grazie mille. Yours, Ethan. P.S. this is actually 2 chapters combined into 1 therefore it is quite long, apologies for that. ---------That night, Serena slept soundly, the kind of deep, dreamless rest that felt like a rare luxury. By the time morning light filtered through her curtains, her spirits were noticeably brighter.The first thing she did upon waking was reach for her phone. A single missed call