Time slipped away from her unnoticed. The sun descended beyond the horizon, leaving streaks of crimson and gold that gradually bled into the darkening sky. The glow of her phone screen flickered on and off beside her, notifications piling up. Missed calls. Messages. All from Amy.
But Quinn was too immersed in her own world, with the voice of her favorite artist playing softly, that she eventually drifted off to sleep.
A few hours later, her eyes fluttered open to a sky painted in deep indigo. The sun had long since set, leaving only the faintest traces of amber on the horizon. The cool night air nipped at her skin, making her shiver as she slowly sat up. Her neck ached from the awkward position she had slept in, curled up on the grass like a child in her mother's womb.
She rubbed her eyes groggily and checked her phone. The screen lit up to reveal the time—8:12 p.m.
