Maeve’s POV.
I knew something was wrong the moment Aaron stopped explaining himself.
He always explained. Even when he didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Especially then.
The house was loud. Too loud. People moving around. Voices overlapping. Someone laughing near the stairs like nothing bad had ever happened tonight. Like there hadn’t been sirens earlier. Like there hadn’t been men tied up and dragged away. I stood near the kitchen island, pretending I was fine, pretending my ribs didn’t protest when I shifted, pretending my mouth didn’t still remember him.
Aaron came up beside me.
Not close. Not touching.
Just there.
The space between us felt deliberate. Like he was holding himself back on purpose. Like he knew exactly what one step closer would do.
“Get your jacket,” he said.
I
