Amara’s POV

My grandmother’s question hung in the air like smoke, and I felt my entire body go rigid. The fork in my hand trembled slightly, and I dared not look at Cassian. Instead, I shifted my gaze just enough to give him the smallest signal—a warning flicker of my eyes that begged him: ‘Please, don’t say anything. Cover it up.’

But Cassian, ever the stubborn man who never seemed to understand subtlety when it mattered most, didn’t catch it. His gaze was steady on my ...