After breakfast, they headed to her house so she could change into her school uniform. Scarlett felt oddly self-conscious wearing Lucian's borrowed clothes in broad daylight – the soft fabric carrying a faint scent that was uniquely him, a mix of expensive cologne and something older, like ancient books.
Her mother's van was absent from the driveway, no surprise there. Another double shift at the hospital meant another morning without seeing her. Scarlett wondered if her mother was working so much when she just started to avoid being home, to avoid the memories that lingered in every corner of their house.
"I'll wait here," Lucian said, leaning against his car with casual grace. Even this simple action looked like something out of a fashion magazine. "Take your time."
Inside, Scarlett q
