ARIA'S POV
I cleared the last of the dishes, trying not to wince too obviously at the ache in my side. Rhea was beside me—of all people—drying plates and humming. Humming. The kind of tune that made you tilt your head and wonder if this was a clone or the real deal.
I was already halfway up the stairs, feet dragging, when her voice caught me mid-step.
"Aria?"
I turned. She was standing in the living room now, arms folded over her cream cashmere sweater, her hair tucked behind her ear.
"I wanted to have a little chat. If you don’t mind."
I hesitated, then sighed and nodded, walking slowly back down and sitting again.
Silence.
I tapped my fingers on my thigh. She stared at me like she was assembling the words in her head. Then finally—
"I want to say I’m sorry."
I blinked at her.
