Emma POV

The house felt too quiet.

Too tight around my chest.

Every sound echoed — the tick of the clock, the distant hum of the AC — all folding into the same thought that had been choking me since Lucas left the café.

What will he ask for?

What price?

What will he take?

I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers tangled in my hair. My heart wouldn’t calm down. It kept jolting like it wanted to escape my ribs. I replayed his voice over and over — that low warning, that awful smirk ...