The first rays of the sun bled through the heavy velvet curtains, casting long, golden needles across the charcoal carpet. Nina stirred, the unfamiliar silk of the pillows cool against her cheek.
For a heartbeat, she forgot where she was, forgot the weight of the previous night, the impossible situation she'd stumbled into. Then she felt the small, rhythmic puff of air against her arm.
Ethan. He was still dead to the world, one small hand tucked under his chin, the other resting near where hers had been moments ago. He looked peaceful, his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, completely at odds with the storm raging in Nina's chest. She studied his face for a moment… so innocent, so trusting.
The thought made her stomach twist with guilt.
