“You look different.”
Taylor glanced up to see Denise standing near the door, watching her with quiet focus.
“How?” Taylor asked, looking back down as she made her bed.
Denise stepped inside slowly. “Like you’re not just reading anymore.” Taylor didn’t answer. Denise’s eyes flicked briefly to the photograph, then back to Taylor’s face. “You pulled him in,” she said.
Taylor’s expression didn’t change. “He stepped in,” she corrected.
Denise let out a quiet breath. “That’s not better.”
Taylor looked back at the letter sitting on her desk. She reached out and smoothed it flat against the surface. “He offered,” she said simply.
Denise studied her for a long moment. “Yeah,” she said finally. “And you took it.”
That night, Taylor didn’t put the photograph back on the desk or in its spot o
