LORENZO
I pushed the door open with a slow creak, expecting silence. But the moment I stepped in, I heard it—the soft tap of fingers against keys, rapid and guilty. My eyes locked on her instantly.
Mia.
Perched on the edge of the bed like she had every right to be there, hunched over my laptop.
She didn't even hear me come in.
Not until I spoke, low and sharp like the slide of a blade.
"Why did you go into the room?"
She jolted, hands scrambling to close the screen, but not before I caught a glimpse of file names, dates, and photos. She looked at me with those wide, fake-innocent eyes, her throat working as she swallowed.
"I… " she stammered, "I was just…"
"I asked you a question." I stepped forward, slow and measured. Each click of my shoes against the hardwood was a countdown.
Her lips parted. "I… I was going crazy, Lorenzo. You have been so distant, so cold, and I just— I thought if I knew more if I understood what you were hiding, I could…"
