(Aspen’s POV)
The market was busy. It was so bright and Loud. It was full of life.
I should’ve felt relaxed.
Instead, I felt watched.
It wasn’t the first time today. It was the third. That prickling awareness between my shoulder blades, the feeling that if I turned too fast I’d catch someone staring. Each time I’d told myself I was imagining it. Too much stress. Too little sleep. Too much everything.
Still, my grip tightened around the canvas tote on my shoulder as I walked between stalls.
The smell of citrus and baked bread floated through the air. A musician played something soft and familiar nearby. Couples laughed. Kids darted between legs.
Normal.
I tried to breathe it in.
My mind drifted back to this morning despite myself.
Waking up in Slade’s bed had been disorienting. Wa
