She takes a step back, creating distance. Physical and emotional. Building walls between us that weren't there thirty seconds ago.
I feel that distance like a door slamming shut. Like losing something I hadn't realized I was holding onto. Something precious and fragile that just slipped through my fingers.
Luan's anger shifts, morphing into confusion and concern. His unfocused eyes move in her direction, trying to find her in the darkness that surrounds him.
"You're hurt?" The question comes out careful. But I can hear the edge underneath. The worry he's trying to contain. "What happened?"
Lily takes another step back. Puts more distance between herself and both of us. Her arms wrap around her middle, a self-protective gesture that makes my chest tighten.
"It was an accident." The words come out too smooth. Too rehearsed to be spontaneous. "I went home after… What happened at lunch. The house is full of moving boxes. I'm packing to move out. I tripped over one. Lost my balance. Hit my head on the edge of the table. It happened fast. But I'm fine. Really. It looks worse than it is."
The explanation is too detailed. Too specific. The kind of story someone tells when they've practiced it in their head, when they've run through every possible question and prepared answers in advance.
She's lying.
Every instinct I have screams it. The tone of her voice. The way she won't quite meet my eyes. The defensive posture. The excessive detail meant to convince rather than inform.
I want to push. Want to demand the truth. Want to grab her by the shoulders and make her tell me who hurt her so I can find them and make them regret ever laying a hand on her. Make them understand what happens when you cross that line.
But she's already retreating. Already closing off. Her body language screams back off, and I force myself to respect it even though every instinct in me is demanding that I do the opposite. To pursue. To protect. To fix this.
Lily forces a smile. The kind of smile that doesn't reach her eyes and cracks at the edges. "Now that you're here, I'll go. There's tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches in the kitchen if you're hungry. The sandwiches are wrapped. You just need to heat them up for a few minutes in the oven."
She looks pointedly at Luan when she says it. A gesture of care despite everything that happened between them today.
Then she leaves. Walks past me without another word. Her shoulder brushes mine, the contact brief and electric, and then she's gone. The sound of her footsteps fading down the hallway. The front door opening. Closing with a soft click that echoes through the suddenly empty apartment.
Silence fills the office. Heavy and uncomfortable.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. The rage is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it's lost its target. No direction. No outlet. Just heat and pressure building in my chest with nowhere to go.
"I'm sorry—" I start to apologize for my outburst.
"I don't believe her." Luan cuts me off, his voice flat and emotionless. The tone he uses when he's processing information and setting aside everything else. "I could hear the lie in her voice."
I nod, then remember he can't see it. "Yeah. Me too."
"She's in trouble." Luan continues, his jaw tight. He moves to sit back down, finding the chair by memory. His movements are careful but confident. Practiced. He's been navigating this space for days now, learning it through repetition and touch. "I heard her on the phone the first night. She was talking to a friend. Mentioned giving her house to her brother. He has gambling debts. She's helping him pay them off."
The information settles over me like a weight. The brother with gambling debts. The house she's giving away. The financial pressure that must be crushing her.
And now an injury she's lying about.
"I'll find out who hurt her," I say.
The words come out like a vow. A promise. The kind of promise I've made before, to people I've sworn to protect. Promises that bind deeper than blood, deeper than choice.
This one feels the same. Inevitable. Non-negotiable.
Luan looks toward me, his unfocused eyes somehow still managing to feel assessing. Reading me through sound and tone and the things I'm not saying.
"Are we good?" I ask.
"Yeah. We're good." Luan's mouth twitches. Almost a smile. Dry. Amused despite everything. "Our first fight. Over a woman. Lily's cast quite a spell, hasn't she?"
I don't respond. Can't argue with that.
Because he's right.
