"Alright."
After hanging up, Leah Sinclair flopped onto the bed, feeling listless. She had been on edge ever since Mabel Grant's call, her heart caught in her throat.
Now, lying on the bed surrounded by Asher Keating's scent, her heart finally began to settle, and her eyelids started to feel heavy.
Mrs. Lowell, hearing no sound from upstairs for a long time, went up to check, worried. She found Leah Sinclair asleep, her brow slightly furrowed. She gently covered Leah with a small blanket, sighed softly at the sight of her thin face, and quietly left, closing the door behind her.
When Asher Keating got back, he didn't see Leah Sinclair downstairs. He hurried into the living room and saw her bag from the morning still on the sofa, letting out a small sigh of relief. He had been genuinely afraid the girl would run off again without a word.
Hearing the noise, Mrs. Lowell came out of the kitchen. "Young Master, you're back. The Young Mistress is upstairs. I think she's still asleep."
