The sun filtered weakly through the curtains of Alex's room, casting long stripes across the carpet. The world outside looked calm, ordinary—kids on bikes rattling past, the distant hum of a lawnmower. But inside Alex's house, the air felt… different.
Liam stood at the doorway, shifting his weight between his feet. He could hear the shower running upstairs—Alex humming off-key, probably still fixing his hair for the third time. It made Liam smile faintly, but that warmth was undercut by the prickling awareness that he wasn't alone.
Because Alex's mom was in the kitchen.
"Coffee?" her voice drifted over, smooth and almost pleasant.
Liam hesitated. He didn't drink coffee—couldn't, not really—but refusing felt worse. "Uh, sure."
She appeared in the doorway with two mugs. Her hair was tied back neatly, not a strand out of place, and her expression was carefully neutral. She set the mugs on the table, motioning for him to sit.
Liam did, though every instinct screamed don't.
