The soft hush of the mansion was broken by the faint click of the front door opening.
Aisha looked up, sensing it instantly, though she didn’t know why.
Something in the air shifted—a tension that wasn’t her own but that made her pulse spike sharply.
The footsteps came closer, deliberate and measured. Then the voice.
“Dad?”
Aisha froze mid-breath. She turned toward the sound and her eyes widened.
Amara.
Her friend. The one she had trusted—or tried to—standing there in the grand entryway, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as she took in the room.
Her chest tightened.
And then she saw him.
Callen.
Standing tall and calm, a hand still lingering near the bandaged hand he had just cared for, eyes flicking to Aisha with that same intensity she had been feeling all day.
Amara’s gaze imme
