The electric kettle hissed its final, stuttering breath, a mundane sound that did little to calm Abbie’s frantic nerves.
She managed to pour the steaming liquid and stir in their instant coffee, her hand trembling only slightly. The silence in the small apartment was thick, humming with the residue of the night and the terrifying implications of the morning.
Keith stepped beside her, his presence quietly filling the narrow space. He took his mug, his fingers brushing hers, a fleeting touch that sent a current through her and brought a sudden, guilty warmth to her cheeks.
She was painfully aware of everything: her fresh set of sweatpants and shirt, the faint trace of his cologne, the quilt still crumpled on her bed in plain sight through the open door.
Abbie turned away quickly, stirrin
