Jojo’s P.O.V.
He came back from the kitchen with something small curled into his palm, his face lit up like he had just discovered some kind of precious secret he couldn’t wait to share. I sat up straighter on the couch, my heart already tripping over itself as I tried to read his expression. Raven wasn’t exactly the dramatic type of guy—but there was a quiet intensity to the way he walked toward me, like whatever he was carrying wasn’t just an object but held far more meaning.
He stopped in front of me and knelt down, holding out his hand. Resting in the center of his palm was a silver key. I stared at it, blinked, then looked up at him.
“It’s not for a car, right?” I said, half-joking, even though my throat was suddenly dry. He smiled, soft and lopsided.
“Nope. It’s for the front do
