Haven’s POV

The moment Aiden disappeared behind the bathroom door, steam already beginning to hiss from the shower, I sighed.

All that trembling, that pitiful sobbing, the soft quiver in my voice—gone. In its place came a quiet meditation of the previous events.

He had looked at me with confusion this morning, maybe even guilt, but not suspicion. That was what mattered. He’d believed the story I’d told him while he slept—believed that in his fevered haze, it was me he had reached ...