The bed is made too tightly.Corners tucked crisp.A book placed on the nightstand perfectly squared with the edge.No stray clothes.No clutter.Nothing personal out except a small framed photo turned face-down.
I don’t flip it over.
That’s a line I won’t cross.
But I feel the weight of it.
A memory she doesn’t want to see.
Maybe him.
Maybe before him.
Maybe the version of herself she’s scared she’ll never get back.
I check the closet.
The window.
The fire escape.
The door frame.
No scratches.
No forced entry.
No tampering.
Whoever was at the game wasn’t here.
For tonight, that matters.
I exhale, only now realizing I’d been holding my breath through every room.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
KAEL: Area’s clear.You?
ME: Her place is clean.
KAEL: You sure.
ME: Yes.Nothing forced.Nothing moved.
KAEL: Stay a little longer.
ME: She asleep?
KAEL: Finn says she’s calm.
ME: Good.
Calm.
That word slices me open from the inside.
I see her in my head—curled into Finn’s side in the car, eyes heavy, breath shaky, body finally relaxing because someone warm and soft is holding her.
