Willow
For the past few days, Lexie and I had existed in an uneasy orbit around each other.
We weren’t fighting anymore.
But we weren’t friends either.
Not really.
There was a fragile truce between us—one neither of us dared disturb. Lexie knew I hadn’t forgiven her for the way she’d treated me that first morning in Gamma Caleb’s house. She had walked into that kitchen after spending the night with him and acted as though she’d somehow been promoted from servant to lady of the house.
I hadn’t forgotten.
And neither had she.
Since then, we’d been polite.
Cold.
Careful.
But polite.
Every night, Lexie continued going into Caleb’s bedroom.
And every night, a while later, I would hear her footsteps crossing the hallway as she returned to her own room.
Caleb had stopped allowing he
