Juniper POV
The next morning….
I sit on the edge of Maya’s couch, knees drawn up as far as my belly allows, while fresh snow taps against the window like impatient fingers. The dark winter refuses to loosen its grip, and neither does the internet. My phone lies face-down on the coffee table—another trending alert just pinged through about me. Tristan posted another mountain photo from Europe this morning. I don’t open the comments anymore. I can’t. It’s like when he posts a photo, automatically his fans attack me.
The door clicks open. Nolan steps in, stamping snow from his boots, two grocery bags in one hand and his keys in the other. He shakes flakes from his dark hair—identical to his brother’s, yet somehow softer in the way it falls across his forehead.
“Got the rice you like,” h
