Maya’s POV
Morning came too early.
The first light broke through the curtains, thin and gray, touching the edges of the room where Alex’s jacket hung over a chair and our bags lay half-open on the floor. The air still carried the faint scent of smoke from the fireplace. For a moment, everything was quiet—the kind of stillness that almost felt like peace.
But peace never lasted long for us.
Alex was already gone. I found his note on the kitchen table beside a cold cup of coffee.
Gone to meet Martinez. Don’t worry. Lock the doors. I’ll be back before noon.
I smiled a little at his handwriting—firm, precise, like someone who needed control over chaos. But my smile faded as I stared at the empty chair across from me. Every time he left now, a part of me feared he wouldn’t come back.
Mar
