I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to overthink. Which was impossible, obviously, because my brain has a special talent for replaying Nicholas's weird behavior on repeat.
Go home before it gets dark.
Who even talks like that?
By the time the sun started dipping, I'd finished most of my work—and Cora had stepped out to drop some documents at an office nearby—so the house was unusually quiet. I didn't feel like leaving early after the way Nicholas had said it, like I needed protection from the evening or something, so I stayed back to finish the last bit of organizing in the kitchen.
I was bending under the counter, rearranging containers, when the front door buzzed. A second later, I heard voices. Not unfamiliar ones.
Male voices.
One I did not expect at all.
I froze.
No.
No way.
It couldn't be—
"Emma?"
I banged my head on the cabinet and hissed in pain, rubbing it as I straightened up.
