Scarlett POV
Delaney hadn’t come home for several nights.
At first I told myself she was buried in the case, scrambling for every piece of evidence before the hearing.
The woman barely slept when a trial was this close; I knew that much from years of sharing a roof with her.
Then the weekend arrived, and the truth walked out of the spare room looking nothing like the exhausted lawyer I’d watched all week.
Her hair was done.
Makeup subtle but deliberate.
Clothes that had nothing to do with court or late-night research.
I stared at her from the couch, water bottle still in my hand.
“You rarely put this much effort into getting dressed for work.”
She smiled, the kind that tried to be casual and failed.
“I’m not just going to work today.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I have plans.”
