Leo’s POV

Helen stayed downstairs longer than I expected. She made small talk, asked about my apartment, and heated up leftover pasta while Sloane stood at the sink pretending to wash a mug that was already clean. Every time their eyes met across the kitchen, Sloane looked away too fast. I kept my face blank and drank my coffee like nothing had happened twenty minutes earlier against that same counter.

The second Helen’s car pulled out of the driveway for her next shift, the house went quiet again.

Sloane didn’t waste time.

She turned off the kitchen light, walked straight over to where I was leaning against the counter, and...