Emma's POV
By the time I left Nicholas's house, my brain felt like scrambled eggs.
Burnt scrambled eggs.
I still didn't fully understand what had just happened in that kitchen.
One second, Nicholas had been sitting through breakfast, acting like the human version of a thundercloud, while Daniel casually ruined my peace by showing up and sitting beside me like it was completely normal.
The next second, Nicholas had called me into the kitchen in that cold, clipped voice of his.
And then...
Nothing.
Well, not exactly nothing.
Just… weirdness.
Very intense weirdness.
I walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop with my bag hanging from one shoulder, replaying the conversation for what had to be the fiftieth time.
"You and Daniel seem close."
That had been the first thing Nicholas said after we entered the kitchen.
No greeting. No schedule discussion. No work instructions.
Just that.
I had stared at him for a full five seconds before replying, "What?"
