Ava’s POV:
The door shuts behind Theodore with a soft, final click.
It sounds louder than it should. Like the house itself has decided to listen.
He doesn’t move farther into the room at first. He stands just inside the threshold, one hand still near the door, as if he expects someone to burst through it at any moment. His control is no longer effortless. It sits on him like a coat that does not fit.
“You should sit,” he says.
“I prefer to stand,” I reply.
His eyes flick to my phone. Then to my face. Then back to the phone.
“You’ve been communicating,” he says.
I slip the device into my palm and let my arm fall naturally to my side. “So have you.”
That earns a thin smile. “Do not deflect.”
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m observing.”
He steps forward at last. The space between us shrinks.
