My skin was slick with sweat, but Lewis didn't pull away.
He drew me closer, one arm firm around my waist, grounding me like he always did when my thoughts spiraled too far. His breath brushed my ear as he murmured, low and steady, "Don't be scared, Riley."
I wanted to believe him.
But fear wasn't something I could command away.
By morning, the edge of my fear had dulled, but something felt wrong.
Lewis wasn't beside me.
The space next to me was cold. Empty. It startled me more than it should have. I had grown used to waking with his presence nearby either seated close, alert even at rest, or already dressed, moving quietly through the house like he was guarding it.
The emptiness pressed against my chest in a way I didn't like.
I got up and pulled on a sweater, following the sound of voices downstairs. I stopped halfway down the steps when the air shifted.
Tension crackled through the living room. Sharp. Unmistakable.
Lewis's voice cut through it, controlled but lethal.
