The image on Ethan’s phone wouldn’t stop burning.It was grainy, taken through a crack in the blinds, but unmistakable: his back, bare, curled around Cassandra’s sleeping body. The glow of a candle on the nightstand. The timestamp from only hours earlier.He hadn’t even known someone was outside the house.Now, he knew someone was watching.By morning, the sheriff’s office had been alerted.A patrol car parked discreetly down the block. A plainclothes officer stationed in the house across the street, with binoculars and a long lens.It wasn’t comfort.It was confirmation.They weren’t safe anymore.Not even in their own home.Cassandra stood in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed over her chest, eyes hollow.“I should’ve ended this months ago,” she whispered. “Before anyone else got hurt.”“You are ending it,” Ethan replied. “You’re telling the truth. You’re holding him accountable.”She looked at him, really looked.“I didn’t want you dragged into the fire.”He stepped close
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