By the time Miley came back, the tension in the apartment had curdled into something thick and quiet. Elise was still sitting on the couch, staring at her untouched phone, and Jaxon was standing near the window, arms folded, gaze locked on the parking lot below.
Miley pushed the door open with her hip, balancing a tray of iced coffees. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “nobody’s bleeding, so I’m assuming we’re making progress.”
Jaxon turned toward her, his expression unreadable. “Thanks,” he said, taking one of the cups.
Elise managed a small smile. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Obviously.” Miley handed her a drink and flopped onto the couch. “So, what’s the game plan now? Hide in here until graduation? Move to another continent? Fake your own deaths?”
Jaxon glanced over, smirking slightly. “You’
