I swallow. “I have it.”
“Give it to me.”
My pride flares automatically. “I’m not handing you my phone like?—”
Wyatt’s voice drops. “Ellie.”
My name on his tongue is a leash. My pulse jumps. I hate it.
I also… don’t.
I pull the phone from my pocket and hold it up. “I recorded him. It’s saved. Maddie made me back it up.”
Wyatt’s gaze flashes with something like approval. “Good girl.”
Heat licks up my spine and I want to shove him. I want to kiss him. I want to throw a truffle at his head.
Maddie steps in from the side like she’s been waiting for her cue. She moves to my shoulder, calm and steady, eyes on me first. “You did it right.”
I nod, throat tight. “He tried to grab it.”
Maddie’s gaze slides to Graham like a blade. “Of course he did.”
Ethan appears in the doorway behind them, ranger jacket on, face hard. He scans the room once, then steps in like an authority figure who doesn’t need permission to occupy space.
“Graham,” he says, voice level. “We’ve got reports of harassment and trespass near a backcountry residence.”
Graham’s smile twitches. “Are you accusing me of trespassing?”
Ethan’s gaze doesn’t change. “I’m saying we have reason to believe someone’s been circling property lines and watching windows. That’s a crime.”
Graham’s eyes narrow slightly. “This is ridiculous.”
Wyatt’s voice goes flat. “Not to me.”
Graham’s gaze flicks to Wyatt’s hands like he’s calculating whether Wyatt will actually swing. Then he looks toward the front windows—toward Main Street—toward the fact that people have definitely stopped walking and started watching.
He resets. Straightens his jacket. Performs.
“Ellie is in default,” he says, louder now. “I’m here to resolve a financial matter. This man is threatening me.”
I laugh, sharp. “You threatened me.”
Graham tilts his head, all fake concern. “I warned you. There’s a difference.”
Maddie leans in toward me, voice low. “Don’t argue definitions. Stick to facts.”
I swallow. “You changed the locks. You restricted my accounts. You contacted me after I told you not to. You showed up here after Wyatt told you to leave.”
Wyatt’s body tenses at the mention of the locks, the accounts—like every detail is another match on gasoline.
Graham’s smile goes tight. “Ellie, you’re spiraling.”
Wyatt turns his head toward me again, just a fraction. “Eyes on me.”
I blink. “What?”
Wyatt’s voice stays calm, but it’s not gentle. “Look at me.”
