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I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard the cabin door creak open downstairs. Adrien's footsteps echoed softly through the wooden floor, heavy and slow, just like they always did when he returned from one of his long walks. My heart was racing as I froze, the open journal still resting on my lap.
Crap.
I'd lost track of time, the sun had dipped low enough that golden rays were slipping through the curtain cracks. A moment later, I heard the familiar click of Adrien's door shutting, louder than it usually felt in the stillness of the house.
For a second, I sat there completely still, gripping the journal so tightly that the leather pressed into my palms. Should I tell him? Or just put it back and pretend I never saw it?
Every fiber of my being screamed to stay quiet. It wasn't my place. This was his mother's life...her pain, her secrets and I'd just read them like a book left open for anyone to pick up.
