Alice’s POV
The following day, Leah and I were curled up in the living room, surrounded by leftover snacks and an unfinished series blaring softly in the background, when we heard a light knock on the door.
I frowned and stood up lazily, padding toward the entrance. When I opened it, I blinked—frozen in place.
“Sam?”
He stood there with a small, charming smile, holding a bouquet of soft pink roses. He looked good—clean, confident. Familiar. Dangerous.
“Good day, Alice,” he said, his voice smoother than I remembered.
His eyes quickly swept over me, pausing for half a second on my dress. “You look dashing.”
I looked down at myself. Just my usual go-to: a floral gown, simple and soft. Nothing special.
“Thank you,” I said slowly. “Is this the part where you tell me why you're here?”
“
