Ava

Joy froze for a split second, her hands lingering over my dresser drawer. Then, as if she hadn’t been caught, she quickly yanked her hand back and looked at me like nothing had happened.

"I— I was just... tidying up," she stammered, her eyes darting to the open drawer, then back at me. "You know, making sure everything's in order."

I raised an eyebrow. The room was far from disorganized, and I had definitely not asked her to clean or go through my things. A slow heat began to crawl up my neck, partially from the alcohol in my system, partially from the irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"Tidying...