Gwen's POV The house was too clean. Not clean in the organized sense. The house was always organized. I couldn't stand the idea of living in chaos. No, this was clean in a different way. Prepared. Staged. Like I'd tried to sweep away the things you can't actually sweep. The problems. The police station. The humiliation of hearing my name spoken by an officer like I was some kind of public nuisance. I'd chosen a discreet blouse, my hair pulled back, makeup light enough that it didn't look like I was hiding anything. At the same time, polished enough to hide what could be hidden. Nick was pretending to be calm. He wasn't. Bella, on the other hand, looked… normal. Too normal. "It's going to be fine," Nick said quietly, his hand resting on my waist in a way that was too protective not to also be anxious. I nodded. Smiled. I was very good at looking like everything was under control. My stomach didn't believe me. The doorbell rang with Italian punctuality, which irritated
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