The hallway stretched between us like a battlefield.
Daniel stood at the far end, half in shadow, half lit by the dim glow of the wall lamp. His shoulders filled the narrow space, his posture stiff, his eyes sharp.
I froze in front of the guest room door, my hand still hovering near the handle like a guilty child caught in the act.
“Emma,” he said again, his voice low, dangerous. “What are you doing?”
My lips parted, but no sound came. Panic clawed at my throat.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered finally. “I—I was just—”
“Just what?” His gaze dropped to the door beside me, the door that separated me from his brother. His jaw tightened. “Checking on Adrian?”
The words stung, thick with accusation.
I forced a laugh that cracked halfway through. “No, of course not. I thought I heard some
