(Aspen’s POV)
I heard him come home after midnight.
I was awake before that.
The crunch of tires on gravel cut through the night.
Then the low thud of a car door closing.
I sat up.
Slade was home.
I pulled a sweater over my shoulders and slipped out of bed. Holly and Winter were asleep, their doors closed, the soft hum of the heater filling the hallway. I moved quietly, careful not to wake them, and stepped outside.
The night air was cool. The yard lights cast soft shadows across the stone path leading to the main house. Its windows glowed faintly, kitchen lights still on.
He hadn't gone upstairs yet.
I hesitated at the edge of the path.
I had no reason to be there. No task assigned. No errand to run. The line between the guest house and the main house had always felt solid, int
