Sienna’s POV

The air in my room thickened, choking me like smoke.

Dad’s eyes were fire—hard, cutting, sparking with fury I hadn’t seen in years. He stood in the doorway like a soldier about to pass judgment, his shadow swallowing the room whole. His gaze slid from me… to Rhett… to the hoodie on the chair.

“Explain,” he said, voice sharp enough to break bone.

My chest seized. My throat locked. The hoodie may as well have been a crime scene photo, neon arrows pointing to ...