I barely slept after what I overheard.

Every time I closed my eyes I heard Noah’s voice again — calm, certain, final. She’s living under our roof now. Things are going to change. By morning the words had settled under my skin like a low current I couldn’t switch off.

The house felt different when I came downstairs. Not louder. Not quieter. Just more aware of me.

Noah was already at the kitchen island with his laptop. He looked up when I entered, eyes moving over my sleep shirt and bare legs before returning to the screen. The glance lasted only a second, but it was thorough.

“Coffee’s fresh,” he...