Unspoken
LAURA’S POV
I hadn’t slept.
The clock on my nightstand glowed a soft 3:12 a.m., and I was still lying there, eyes wide open, sheets tangled at my ankles.
My mind kept circling back to the rose. The note. Richard’s arms around me.
Not because of what had happened.
But because of how it made me feel.
Off balance.
I wasn’t supposed to feel anything anymore. Not for him. Not for anyone.
I had trained myself to walk through fire and not flinch. But lately, it felt like every glance—Elijah’s silences, Richard’s kindness, even Liam’s steady presence—was peeling back a layer I didn’t want exposed.
I turned over and stared at the ceiling.
Who was listening?
Who put that recorder in Elina’s bear?
And why?
I’d broken it. But that didn’t mean the secrets were gone. If anything,
