Robert pulled into the driveway, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. The weight of the previous night lingered heavily on his shoulders—Rebecca’s sudden reappearance, Emma’s betrayal, Natalie’s cryptic warnings. It was all too much.
Stepping out of the car, the cool morning air did little to calm him. He pushed open the door to his house, half-hoping for silence, but instead, he was greeted by a voice that made his stomach twist.
“Well, look who finally decided to come home,” Carolyn said, lounging on the couch as if she owned the place.
Robert froze in the doorway, his jaw tightening. “You’re still here?” he asked, his tone clipped.
Carolyn stood, smoothing down the silk robe she wore—a robe that wasn’t hers, he noted bitterly. She had a way of making herself at home in places
