Nora

The house was full of light by the time I opened my eyes.

Too much of it.

I reached over and pulled the curtain halfway closed, letting the morning turn from gold to gray.

Sleep had come in short, shallow waves. Not because I was uncomfortable. The bed was soft, the pillows expensive. Everything here was designed to make you feel taken care of.

But that didn’t mean I felt safe.

My mind kept replaying the silence in the pool. The way Axton didn’t look away. The way he didn’t bother hiding the tension in his voice when he said, "You’re not my sister."

That line still echoed somewhere behind my ribs.

It wasn’t attraction. It was something else. Some kind of energy between us I didn’t know what to name yet.

I sat up slowly, dragging the hair tie from my wrist and pulling my curls into a lazy bun. My phone buzzed just as I grabbed it from the nightstand.

Amelia: Hey mystery girl. Still alive or did the mansion eat you?

Amelia: Also, coffee. Today. You need socializing. I need gossip.

I smiled without meaning to.

Amelia was one of the few people I’d met here that didn’t immediately ask about my last name or my father or what my parents did. She just asked where I got my shoes and offered to split a muffin like we’d known each other forever.

We met at the tiny café inside the gated community a few weeks ago, when I was still getting used to being back in the city. She was ordering something absurdly complicated with oat milk and cinnamon syrup, and I’d laughed under my breath. She caught me, smiled, and said, “It’s disgusting, but I’m committed.”

And that was it.

I liked her instantly.

She didn’t expect anything from me, which made it easier to talk. And now, she was the only person I felt like I could respond to.

Nora: Survived. Barely. Might need caffeine to cope.

Amelia: Pick you up at 11. Tell your stepfamily you’re being kidnapped by someone prettier and way less emotionally damaged.

I let out a quiet laugh and tossed the phone back onto the bed.

The idea of seeing someone who didn’t look at me like a disruption felt like oxygen.

I stood up, stretched, and crossed the room to grab fresh clothes. I could hear quiet voices downstairs, his voice among them. I paused for a second.

Then I kept walking.

Last night, something had shifted. Just a little. Just enough to make me realize that ignoring Axton Trent wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d planned.

But I didn’t need to figure that out today.

Today, I had coffee. And Amelia.

And maybe, for just a few hours, I could pretend this wasn’t my new reality.