The silence between them was louder than any scream.
Blythe could hear the clock ticking above the fireplace like a countdown to something she couldn’t name. Her arms were folded across her chest, nails digging into her skin to hold herself together. Everett stood across the room, his hands in his pockets, but his stance radiated a barely-contained violence.
She had never seen him like this. Not like this.
Not with his eyes glassy, jaw tight, and the edges of his control visibly cracking. The man who once moved through life like he controlled the air itself was now pacing in his own home like a caged wolf.
“I asked you one thing,” he said finally, voice low, sharp. “One thing, Blythe. Not to go behind my back.”
“And I asked you to tell me the truth,” she snapped, voice shaking with ra
