Chapter 43 Winner, Winner

• Agnes
• The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting golden stripes across the hotel room floor. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the haze of sleep, but a faint noise drew my attention. Snoring.
• I turned my head toward the source of the noise, which was near the couch, and there he was—Elijah, sprawled across the sofa, one arm hanging over the edge and a leg bent at an angle that looked anything but comfortable. His hair was a tousled mess, sticking up in wild directions, and his mouth was hanging wide open as he snored.