Tiffany hadn’t spoken to anyone all morning.
Not Cole. Not her mother. Not Riley, who had finally texted her something vague and passive-aggressive around midnight.
She’d barely touched her breakfast. Just sat at the table in silence while the air around her pulsed with the kind of tension that made the walls feel too small.
She felt watched.
Not just by whoever was watching.
But by him.
Landon hadn’t said much either. He sat at the counter, sipping coffee, scrolling through his phone like he wasn’t paying attention.
But she felt it.
His eyes would drift up, quiet and heavy, whenever her mother left the room. Whenever Cole stepped outside. Whenever Tiffany’s hands trembled just slightly while reaching for her glass.
He knew.
He always knew.
……
She was heading upstairs when he
