I nod.
Because I knew she meant it. And because part of me knew, this is either the moment it breaks, or the moment it becomes real.
I sat there for a long moment after we stopped talking. The coffee had gone lukewarm in my hands. Mel watched me like she was ready to fight someone on my behalf. Eleanor watched me like she trusted me to choose wisely.
“I’m going to talk to him,” I said finally.
Mel bit her lip but nodded once. “With backup.”
“I don’t need backup.”
“You drove away at three in the morning,” Mel reminded me.
“That was dramatic, not dangerous.”
She pointed at me. “Same thing sometimes.”
Eleanor stood to refill the coffee pot.
And that’s when we heard it.
A knock.
All three of us froze. Another knock followed, just as steady.
Eleanor’s eyes flicked toward the door. There was a tall, narrow window set high into it, the kind that lets in light but doesn’t reveal much.
Except now, through the frosted glass, I could see the outline of dark hair and broad shoulders. It was too tall to be anyone else. My heart stumbled into a sprint.
Mel’s gaze snaps to me. “Is that him?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
Eleanor moved first, smoothing her sweater like this is a perfectly ordinary morning. She walked toward the door with calm, deliberate steps.
My pulse pounded loudly in my ears. I shouldn’t feel like this.
She opened the door. And then I heard it. His voice was low, controlled, and impeccably polite.
“Good morning,” he said. “I apologize for the intrusion.”
The sound of it sent a ridiculous, traitorous rush through my chest. He didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound storming. He sounded . . . composed.
“My name is Raphael Renault,” he continued. “I’m looking for Belle.”
He paused.
“I noticed her van outside and was hoping you might have seen her.”
Mel’s eyebrows shot up. Eleanor crossed her arms lightly, blocking the doorway just enough to be intentional.
“And why,” she asked evenly, “are you looking for her?”
There’s the faintest pause.
“She left in distress,” he said carefully. “I would like to ensure she is safe.”
My breath caught. Safe. He sounded like the man who built me a shelf, not the one who roared.
