Cassie's POV.
Back at home, I sat on the couch, feeling weirdly stuck. Daelan had only said, "Margaret is hurt," and then left. That was it, with details or explanation.
I didn’t want to overthink it, but it lingered in my mind. My concern was real — as a person, of course I was worried. But somewhere beneath that, a small uneasiness tugged in my chest, and I couldn't tell what it was. I didn't even want to know what it was. It was the kind of feeling you get when something shouldn't matter but somehow still does.
I stood up, pacing into the kitchen. The pot of pasta was still sitting there, untouched as I stared at it for a moment, before finally opening the cupboard to look for seasoning. I didn’t even know where to begin, in fact, I should have let him know that.
The actual truth
