SIENNA’S POV

The ride home felt different.

Not calmer. Not lighter. Just… different.

Like the kind of silence that comes after a storm, where everything looks the same but you can still feel the thunder sitting in your bones.

Luther’s house appeared through the trees—tall windows glowing warm, the porch lights forming a soft halo around the entrance. Nothing about the place looked dangerous, but my heartbeat still raced like it remembered danger even when it wasn’t there.

The car ...