The following days carried a rhythm that pressed on Arielle’s nerves. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner passed with ordinary politeness, but underneath it all lay a silence she could not decipher. Kairo’s gaze was too steady, his questions too mild, and his calmness too measured.
She told herself it was just her paranoia, but she noticed little things.
When she set her phone down on the kitchen counter while making tea, Kairo passed by, glancing at the screen longer than necessary. When she folded laundry, he asked casually if she had gone out during the afternoon, his tone almost indifferent, but his eyes sharper than his voice.
Each question seemed harmless, but together, they formed a net.
Arielle tried to keep her breathing even whenever she felt his eyes on her. She cooked dinner as th
