(Alina's POV)
So this was it, huh? Back home, away from Dante’s suffocating grip, only to get tossed back into my own brand of hell. The air was thick with old familiarity, the kind that clung like humidity—silent judgments baked into the walls, unsaid things shoved under dusty carpets. I was in the kitchen, wiping the countertop for the third time though it didn’t need it. The place was spotless, but I needed something to do, something to distract me from the way my chest still tightened when I thought about him.
The front door swung open again with that same creaking sound I always meant to fix. Brent’s voice drifted in first, louder than usual, tinged with whatever stupid excitement he’d picked up. Then I heard it—that second set of footsteps. He wasn’t alone.
I peeked from behind th
