NOVARIA’S POV
Breakfast with the Muskegons felt strangely peaceful.
The dining room was bathed in the soft gray light of the rainy morning outside. The chandelier hanging above the long marble table glowed warmly, reflecting against the polished black furniture and silver cutlery.
For the first time in a long while, I felt… comfortable. Too comfortable.
Sylvester sat across from me, sleeves rolled slightly above his wrists as he poured hot chocolate into my cup. Steam curled upward in lazy swirls, carrying the rich scent of cocoa through the room.
Then he placed two cookies beside my plate.
Only two.
I stared at them suspiciously.
Out of the entire jar sitting on the counter, he had chosen just two.
My lips twitched in disbelief. Sylvester noticed immediately.
“Don’t even think a
