LILY
Three days.
Three days since we arrived in Denver, I can't shake this feeling that something is wrong. Not just the usual wrong that comes with living with James—this is different. Deeper.
I press my face against the kitchen window, scanning the quiet street for today's hundredth time. Nothing. Just empty sidewalks and unfamiliar houses with their perfectly manicured lawns.
"What are you looking at?" James's voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade.
I don't flinch anymore. I've learned not to give him that satisfaction. "Just getting familiar with the neighborhood."
"Right." He moves behind me, close enough that I can feel his breath on my neck. "You're not looking for someone, are you?"
My heart stops. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." But his hand finds my shoulder, squeezin
