The café felt too bright for what she had just seen.
Maylen stared at the frozen frame on Aiden’s laptop until her eyes burned. The figure stood half turned, caught in a slice of light from her bedside lamp. Familiar shoulders. Familiar posture. A hand she knew well hovering over her dresser like it had done a hundred times before without permission ever being questioned.
Her chest locked.
“No,” she said softly, as if volume could change truth. “Pause it again.”
Aiden didn’t move. Lanry did.
Lanry pushed back from the booth so fast the table rattled. His chair scraped loud enough to make people turn. “That’s not possible.”
Maylen’s throat felt packed with cotton. “I gave her a key.”
The words landed like glass.
Serena.
Not a stranger. Not an ex. Not a man with unclear motives. Her
