Which means she wasn’t.
The realization settles in more heavily than it should.
Hope is a dangerous thing. Especially when you don’t believe in it.
Drew wanders into the kitchen mid-spiral, hair sticking up, phone already in his hand.
“Morning,” he says cautiously, like he’s testing the temperature of a room he suspects might explode.
“Morning,” I reply, my tone neutral.
He eyes the coffee maker. “You made enough for two.”
I nod.
He doesn’t comment. Growth.
He leans against the counter, scrolling on his phone. “So… any plans today?”
“No.”
He hums. “Same.”
Silence stretches.
I feel his attention on me. Waiting.
“Don’t,” I say.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he replies.
“You were absolutely going to say something.”
Drew shrugs. “Maybe later.”
I finish my coffee and set the mug in the sink harder than necessary.
I shouldn’t go over there. I know that.
I also know I’m already halfway to convincing myself otherwise.
It would raise questions. Drew already suspects something. If he caught me leaving. Or worse, saw me in the mask?—
No.
Absolutely not.
He’d never let it go.
I head upstairs, telling myself I’m just… pacing. Thinking. Definitely not checking the camera feed in my bedroom again.
Just once, I tell myself. For my sanity.
I scroll back through the footage from last night.
No movement.
No Ivy slipping into my room like she belongs there.
