Nathan’s POVThe motel room was too quiet for how loud my thoughts were.The rain had slowed to a steady patter against the window, the neon sign outside flickering weakly, painting the walls in pulses of red and blue.Carmilla sat on the chair at one corner of the room while I was on the bed, pretending to watch old reruns on TV. “I’ll just finish these,” she said, already opening her laptop, tone brisk, professional, impenetrable. “The supplier summaries need to be submitted by morning.”“It can wait,” I said.She didn’t look up. “It can’t.”That was her armor. Work. Precision. Control. And tonight, I realized she was using it the same way I did—like a shield.I sat on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, watching her fingers move across the keyboard. The glow from the screen lit her face harshly, emphasizing the shadows beneath her eyes.“You’ve been at this since before dinner,” I said.“I’m fine.”A lie. A familiar one.Minutes stretched into an hour. Then a
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