The house stayed silent long after Dominic left.
Emma stood motionless in the center of the living room, staring at the half-open front door.
Cold night air drifted inside slowly.
The curtains moved softly near the windows.
Everything else remained still.
Too still.
Dominic’s whiskey glass still sat on the coffee table.
One fingerprint visible against the crystal.
A quiet reminder that he had been there.
That he had touched her.
Emma inhaled carefully.
Only then did she realize her breathing had gone uneven.
Not during the confrontation.
After.
Her body always reacted after.
As if survival had taught her emotions were dangerous in real time.
She shut the door slowly and locked it.
Then checked it again.
Once.
Twice.
Her jaw tightened instantly at herself.
No.
She refu
