Stevie-lou's POV.

Jeremy paced through the house like he owned it. His shoes clacked against the marble tiles, echoing louder than they should've, and his eyes darted around, scanning everything. I followed him slowly, my arms crossed over my chest, heart pounding.

"Jeremy," I called out, voice strained. "What do you want?"

He didn’t answer me. Just kept walking. Glancing at the photos on the wall, running his fingers across the sleek countertops in the kitchen, peeking into the living room like he belonged there. I tried again, firmer this time. "Jeremy. What do you want?"

He turned around so fast I took a step back. His face was twisted,...