I huff a quiet laugh, running my fingers over the delicate ridge of her spine. “So are you. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

She hesitates before answering, and I don’t miss the way her fingers tighten around the mug she’s still holding, like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered.

“Just…thinking,” she finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Dangerous habit,” I tease, keeping my tone light, even as my thumb instinctively rubs slow circles against her arm.

That earns a faint chuckle, and she finally looks up at me. “Says the guy who’s practically made brooding his full-time job.”

“Touché,” I murmur, resting my chin against the top of her head for just a second before forcing myself to pull back.

I shouldn’t be thinking about how good this feels.

Shouldn’t be memorizing the way she fits against me, the way her fingers feel against my skin, the way she tastes when I kiss her.

Not now. Not when everything is hanging by a thread.

I let out a slow breath and shift my focus. “But seriously, you okay?”

She exhales, a heaviness behind it. “I don’t know. It’s a lot. Everything with Aubrey, Gabriel, tomorrow… It’s hard to make sense of it all. And then there’s me, sitting here, wondering how my life got so far off course.”

Her voice is quiet, but there’s an edge of vulnerability to it that makes me sit up a little straighter. “Off course?” I echo.

She nods, staring down at the mug in her hands. “I left everything behind when I came here. My job, my ex, the life I thought I was supposed to have. I moved to a town I’d never even heard of, adopted a dog that can’t stop stealing shiny things, and somehow found myself in the middle of a murder investigation.” She lets out a dry laugh. “Not exactly what I pictured for myself.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “I mean, that’s one way to keep life interesting. Maybe you’ve just got a flair for the dramatic.”

She turns her head, her cheek brushing against my chest as she gives me a look. “Says the guy whose family drama could rival a true crime documentary. Want to compare notes?”

“I feel like I’d win,” I say, arching an eyebrow. “But I’ll give you credit for effort.”

Her lips twitch, but then her expression softens, and she turns her face toward mine just enough that I can see the concern in her eyes. “Seriously, Theo…are you okay?”

The warmth of her gaze settles a deep tension inside me, but it also unearths everything I’ve been trying to push down.

I take a slow breath.

The truth still feels surreal, like a bad dream I haven’t fully woken up from.

Aunt Aubrey—sweet, doting Aunt Aubrey—killed my parents.