The clock ticked slowly.
Lena watched it from her bed, each second like a drop of water in a cave, echoing and endless.
11:56 PM.
She’d read the note a hundred times.
“Can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be in the pool after midnight.” —J.
She told herself she wouldn’t go. That she shouldn’t. That whatever happened in the kitchen was a mistake—a fever dream fueled by tension and hormones and the unbearable heat of the summer night.
But her legs didn’t believe her.
Her heart didn’t either.
So she slipped out of bed, breath shallow, fingers trembling as she pulled on a thin robe over her silk nightdress. She didn’t know why she cared about what she wore. She didn’t want to look like she cared. And yet…
She paused at the door.
Last chance to walk away.
But she didn’t.
The house wa
