The sound of the doorbell—or whatever the hell that ancient ding was supposed to be—ripped through the stillness of the mansion like a knife through already-thin nerves. My body tensed up so hard I probably looked like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my back. Every part of me screamed danger, even though logically, it could’ve just been a damn delivery guy or something. But nothing about my life lately had been logical, and my gut wasn’t exactly in the mood to pretend.
I didn’t move. Not immediately.
Then I felt it—Ethan’s hand on my shoulder. Warm. Solid. Heavy in that way that made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone in this horror show of a life. I hadn’t even realized I was shaking until his fingers tightened gently, like a quiet “I got you.”
He didn’t say anything.
