Spine straight. Eyes ahead. Don't look back.
But the ghost of that contact lingers on my skin, a slow burn that refuses to fade no matter how many steps I put between us.
What the hell was that?
I make it to the garden entrance before Ewan appears.
He materializes from the house like smoke given form, wearing a smile meant for the perimeter guards. Picture-perfect. Devoted husband coming to collect his wife.
Then his eyes find me across the lawn.
Whatever warmth he's performing freezes into cold calculation. The smile stays fixed, but the man behind it has already started taking inventory of my sins.
"Enjoying your morning walk?”
"Always." My voice holds steady. "The lavender is blooming beautifully."
"Mmm." He reaches me in three measured strides, fingers wrapping around my arm a fraction too tight. "Time to come inside. We have guests later."
"Of course."
I fall into step beside him. The decoration, returned to its shelf.
As we pass the garden entrance, I don't look at Henri. Don't acknowledge he exists. Don't let my gaze drift even a fraction in his direction.
But I feel him.
His eyes on my back, pressing between my shoulder blades like an itch I can't scratch.
I can't sleep.
Hours pass, and I just stare at the four walls, counting the cracks in the dark, listening to the noises all around me.
Nothing works, and eventually I give up and decide to make my way to Hale's room. If the guards are there tonight, so be it. I'll lean against his door and sleep there. What are they going to do—remove me by force? I'll scream so loud it'll make them never want to come near me again.
Besides, if it's bad enough, Ewan might fire them.
By some miracle, there's no one outside Hale's room, and his door is unlocked.
Now that I'm a wounded animal and being so obedient, Ewan must have loosened up a little with the lockdowns.
That, or he's planning something extra brutal for me.
Hale is asleep when I climb in beside him. Warm and small andminein a way nothing else in this world is. I brush the hair from his forehead. Count his breaths and match mine to his until the tightness in my chest loosens just enough to let me process everything.
I should be thinking strategically. Mapping exists. Figuring out a way out of here for me and Hale.
Instead, I'm thinking about brown eyes.
My fingers drift to my shoulder without permission, to the spot where his arm brushed mine. It's been hours. The contact lasted half a second, but I swear I can still feel it.
Stop.
He's one of them. Bought and paid for like everything else in this house. His job is to watch me. Report on me. Make sure I stay exactly where I'm kept.
So why did my body react like it recognized him?
Why am I lying here in the middle of the night, heart still racing, thinking about a stranger in a mask I don't even know?
