Scarlett’s POV I Dragged Cade to his room violently. I closed the door.The sound of it was louder than I intended, the specific acoustic of a door shut with feeling rather than force, the wood finding the frame with a definitiveness that said everything the action was supposed to say.The room was quiet.I looked at him.He looked at me."What game," I said, and kept my voice at a very specific register, the register of someone who has a great deal of feeling available and is choosing, with enormous effort, to direct it toward language rather than its more instinctive destinations, "are you playing?"He said nothing.His hands stayed at his sides. His face stayed in that expression. His eyes, which usually did so much work in the absence of words, were doing something different from their usual communication, something turned inward rather than outward, something that was processing rather than projecting.He said nothing."Cade." I took a step toward him. "I am asking you a direct
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