Eve
I rushed to the kitchen, my heart already sinking as I twisted the knob. Locked. Of course it was. Ellen had swept through earlier, snatching up the market keys like they were her personal treasure. Damn her. I yanked harder, as if sheer frustration could force it open, but the door didn’t budge.
No spare keys—that much was clear after I’d torn through drawers, cabinets, and even the dusty shelves in the hallway closet. Papers scattered across the floor, cushions tossed aside, rooms left in chaos. It felt like the entire house was conspiring against me, laughing at my desperation. Why today? Why make this so impossible?
Then it hit me, sharp and sudden, like a lifeline in the dark. Why not just take the ingredients and go? Make the soup at my real home. Mia wouldn’t be there. She’d
