One night passed.

"Honey—" Celine rolled over and reached to hug Ray, but grasped only empty air. She didn't fully wake, only murmuring softly, her breathing steady and calm.

Ray, meanwhile, sat by the window. Early to bed, early to rise—it had become a habit.

What to do today? Ah, the happy troubles of life.

If he were anyone else, waking up would mean immediately thinking about meals, scrounging for supplies. But Ray had no worries about food or drink. His concern was how to kill time… and