She noticed a stool with a glass of water and some basic medicines. Dazed, she tried to piece together what had happened. A woman in her sixties in a comfortable house dress entered the room with a warm smile.
The homeowner checked in on her and offered to call Evan. By the time he came in he had a short, apologetic smile and a quick explanation: the dog had bolted, he’d braked hard and then noticed the sleeping woman.
He told Eleanor he’d called Greg to make sure she was okay. Greg had given her something to help her rest. Evan suggested she take it easy and not talk too much for now. He helped her up, showed her the bathroom and waited while she freshened up.
After breakfast he guided her back to the couch and gently asked what had happened. Eleanor drew a long breath and told the plain truth: she was a schoolteacher and homeroom advisor, overloaded with meetings, tests and after-school duties. Mike, her husband, refused to help around the house and expected home-cooked dinners and pressed shirts every night.
