FREYA CARTER
The house felt strangely peaceful that morning. Not the quiet that comes from emptiness. But the quiet that comes when the world slows down for a moment.
I was standing in the kitchen, pouring juice into two glasses while the microwave hummed softly beside me. The smell of buttered popcorn slowly filled the room as the bag finished popping.
I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. I had actually convinced Rowan Carter to take a day off. If someone had told me that a few weeks ago, I would have laughed in their face. Rowan was a big workaholic and him taking a day off is a huge surprise, even for me.
The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts, I turned and for a second I just stared.
Rowan was walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. But he didn’t l
