EMILY
I shoved the letter and the ring into my drawer, tucking them beneath a stack of old sketches like they might burn through the wood if left out in the open. Out of sight, out of mind. At least for now.
Downstairs, the scent of pizza was already thick in the air… greasy, comforting, completely at odds with the buzzing weight sitting in my chest. Mia was at the dining table, talking to someone on the phone, her crutch propped beside her chair like a loyal guard dog. She glanced up briefly and shot me a grin before returning to her call.
Nicholas stood at the kitchen counter, lit only by the dim glow of his phone screen. He looked up when I walked in, and in that second, I felt his gaze travel over me, slow, deliberate, like he was cataloging every detail without even trying.
Sudden
