Emma spent the entire day trying to avoid him.
She left for work early, stayed late at the office, even texted the group chat that she’d grab dinner out so she wouldn’t have to sit at the same table with him again. This ends today, she told herself in the mirror before heading home. I’m not some desperate s**t drooling over my own step-brother. He’s still the same loser we bullied for three years. I just had a weak moment. Two weak moments. That’s it.
But the second she stepped through the front door at 9:30 p.m., the house felt charged.
Victoria was already in bed with a migraine. Lily and Sophia were sprawled on the living-room couch scrolling their phones, laughing at some t****k. The laundry room light was on at the end of the hallway—door cracked open, dryer humming.
Emma’s basket
