Aria

“Welcome home,” Sierra said, her arms brushing around me in the most awkward half-hug imaginable, like she expected I might detonate on impact.

“Thanks,” I muttered, dragging my suitcase across the pristine marble floor. The wheels hummed against the silence, a low reminder that I wasn’t supposed to belong here.

“Where’s your Grant?” she asked, her voice casual but edged with curiosity.

“I don’t know. Somewhere,” I replied without looking back, already peeling ...