Arielle didn’t sleep well that night. The thought that she might have seen her first real chance kept her mind running circles. Every sound in the house seemed louder—the creak of the old wood, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the faint steps of Kairo moving somewhere upstairs.
She lay on her side, staring into the dark, forcing her breaths to stay steady just in case he was listening.
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By morning, she looked at herself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back. Pale skin, tired eyes, hair messier than usual. She straightened her shoulders, brushed her hair carefully, and fixed her face into something calm. The last thing she needed was for Kairo to suspect that something was different.
At breakfast, he sat across from her as usual, r
