Alexander’s POV
I stand outside the door, staring at the smooth wooden surface as if it holds the answers to my hesitation. Christine’s words echo in my head: She’s awake now.
I should go in.
I shouldn’t.
The decision feels heavier than it should, like the air pressing against my chest. My hand brushes against the doorknob, then drops back to my side. Why the hell am I hesitating? It’s just a conversation—acknowledge she’s fine, exchange a few words, and leave. That’s it.
Finally, I knock, the sound sharper than I intended, and push the door open.
The stares hit me first. Mrs. Montgomery’s, cool and guarded, and Claire’s, fleeting yet piercing in its own way. The air shifts, weighted by their gazes. I push it down—the unease, the way my chest tightens. I’m here for a reason. Say what
