CARA's POV
I was already dressed for work—a linen blouse tucked into black slacks, shoes in hand—as I padded down the hallway, intending to grab something quick from the kitchen before Cooper pulled up.
The house was quiet, all marble and soft morning light.
Until I passed Wesley’s door.
A low, flickering sound drifted out. Not voices exactly. Not music either. Just a dull hum—erratic, broken by static.
I paused.
The door was cracked just enough to see darkness on the other side. No sign of movement. Just the strange, steady rhythm of a TV left on.
It wasn’t like Wesley to leave anything running. He was methodical to a fault.
Still, I stood there, indecisive. I should’ve kept walking. It wasn’t my room.
But something pulled at me—a taut thread of unease that hadn’t fully unraveled since yesterday. And when I opened the door slowly and stepped inside, the air felt even heavier.
Click.
I shut the door behind me. The lock slid into place like punctuation.
The room was still damp from his
