Scarlett’s POV
Walking into the store, my skin still crawled.
Liliana hadn’t looked like a woman who’d moved on.
She looked like a woman planning something.
I should’ve kept walking the second I saw her.
Letting her vent on me was stupid.
The unease stuck like an unpleasant smell.
Every aisle felt too open, the fluorescent lights too bright, the hum of the coolers too loud.
I kept glancing over my shoulder, heart kicking harder than it should against my ribs.
Lydia, quiet most days, stirred restlessly under my skin, ears pricked, scenting danger I couldn’t name.
The air still carried a faint trace of Liliana’s bitter, frayed scent, and it made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
By the time I had loaded the cart, I was jumping at shadows.
A kid’s cart rattling behind me
