il

cabin like a queen inspecting a ne

ough-hewn wooden mantelpiece. She turned to Donovan, wh

the... rustic aesthetic." Her tone dripped with loving di

l explain that this entire "rustic" life was a

droom was pushed open. Donovan's bedroom. It was sparse and obsessively neat, a

le faltered for

lway, landing on the door to the tiny storage c

pt through me as I watched h

rrow cot, and the few personal items I owned. A room for

ely vanished from

sharp and piercing, fixing on Donovan. The

" Dangero

uth opened to offer some kind of explanation, som

wildly out of place. "Such a cozy little space." Light again, that voice. A move to

s swept over the contents-my few dresses, my worn-out jean

Not mine. My brother-in-law Harvey's-a cast-off given to me when I was helping

lain. "That's just an

ords

novan's eyes s

om this morning had erupted into a full-blown inferno of suspicion a

clothes in my room. In his ho

al, so utterly wrong, that the words

rror on mine. A smooth, deliberate movement. A reach into the ward

an." Steel wrapped in velvet. "You and

ch. The door pulled shut behind them. And there I stood, alone in the

the porch now, onto the gravel path, their backs partially turned. Genevieve's face was no lo

cipherable murmur. The words were lost, but the venom in her tone was unmistakable. A sharp gestu

gument at first-just a stone statue. Then, he spoke. Too low to hear, but the stubborn set of his jaw w

orm that had just broken over our heads. Was it about the separate rooms? The shirt? The cold way he'

r hand flew to her mouth in what looked like a gasp of pure shock.

shock solidified into somethi

et mine for a brief, intense moment. A shiver went down

said. A hand placed on his arm. Donovan frowned, clearly conf

toward the cabin, the furious storm in her eye

e terrifying feeling settled in my gut that I, unknowingly, h