I turn, intending to head back to the living room, but spot another door cracked open a little further down the hall.
My curiosity perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag, and my feet change course on their own.
The bed’s made in this one, three books are stacked on the nightstand, and a keyboard is set up against the far wall, sheet music arranged on a stand.
Okay, this room gives Liam vibes. I had no clue he played piano, but somehow it fits.
I'm still in the doorway, just taking it in, then quietly pull the door shut and move on.
First room gave off Felix vibes. The second Liam's. That leaves…
I stop in front of the last closed door, fingers resting on the knob. This one feels… riskier. But hey… might as well just see if—
I twist the knob. It's unlocked. My head does a very undignified little swivel before I push the door open.
Gray duvet. Simple. A single book on the nightstand,The Art of War,naturally. No posters, no photos, no clutter. Everything tidy, functional, a little cold.
Yeah. Checks out.
I close the door and keep going. There’s another door farther down. I try the handle. Locked. Storage, probably. Then, the hallway ends at a door.
I open it and step into what seems to be a home office.
One wall is covered in hockey trophies and framed game photos. A big desk dominates the middle, buried under scouting reports, old mail, binders, loose papers.
I hover by the chair, taking a sip of coffee. This room is one pile away from a hoarding intervention.
My eyes snag on a desk drawer left open a crack.
I hesitate, chewing my lip. I really should stop snooping around… and yet, my fingers, traitors, hook under the edge anyway. My heart does a stupid littlethumpas I slide it open.
Pens. A knot of charging cords. And right on top, a stack of photos held together with a rubber band, practically begging to be straightened. Which, technically, would be tidying. Helpful, really.
I set my mug down and pick them up.
The first photo is the three of them. Felix, Liam, and Silas, impossibly young, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders in what looks like a high school graduation shot.
Another is just Silas, actuallysmilingas he holds a massive silver trophy over his head. I almost don’t recognize him.
Then, another group shot. The three of them on a beach, laughing, shirts off. They're flanking a fourth person... an omega, most likely, I can tell from the build. But…
Why is her face blacked out?
The heavy thump of the front door makes me jerk so hard I almost drop the photos.
“Shit.”
My hands shake as I bundle the stack back together and slide them into the drawer exactly how I found them. Drawer shut. Mug back in my hand. Deep breath.
By the time I make it back down the hall, my pulse is still thudding, but at least my face feels under control.
They’re in the mudroom, stomping snow off their boots. Their cheeks are red and their hair dusted with white.
“Success!” Felix crows, a load of split logs at his feet. “Got enough wood to last us ’til, I don’t know, mid-January. Hum, you okay in here? You look a little… pale.”
“Just… cabin fever, I guess.” The lie sits weird on my tongue, but telling them I was accidentally rummaging through their stuff doesn’t sound better. “Was everything okay out there?”
“Yeah. Went fine,” Liam says, unwinding his scarf and hanging it up.
