Later that evening, Leo seemed calmer, but his anger still lingered, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave. He was pacing in the living room, his hands running through his hair, his jaw tight with frustration. I sat on the couch, trying to read him, trying to figure out what came next.
He stopped in front of me, his eyes narrowed. “Why did you call her?” he asked, his tone dangerously low. “ I'm talking about Maya. Why did you call her Alessia?”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “I... I didn’t. I didn’t call her. She showed up here on her own.”
Leo’s eyes bore into mine, searching for any sign of dishonesty. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but I held my ground. I wasn’t lying. I couldn’t be.
But before I could say anything more, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house, and L
