William VanceI stood in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner. Claire had retreated to her room hours ago, claiming a migraine, leaving the silence of the house to be filled by the distant, rhythmic lap of the water against the dock. The stairs groaned. I didn't need to look up to know it was him. Elias had a specific way of moving, it was unhurried, the opposite of how I needed things and people to move."Is that... actual food?" Elias asked, leaning against the doorframe. He had traded his pajamas for a pair of black jeans and a worn-out hoodie. "I figured you just plugged yourself into a wall to recharge while eating a spreadsheet for dinner.""I am capable of basic domesticity, Elias," I replied,ignoring his sarcasm. "So I've seen," Elias said, wandering into the kitchen. He hopped onto the counter, not the stool, but the actual marble surface and sat there watching me and waiting for a reaction."Sit on the stool, Elias. The counter is for preparation, not your ass."He didn
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