Ella woke up to the smell of burnt toast.
She lay still for a second, trying to place it. The kitchen was too far from her room for the smell to carry this strong unless someone had left the toaster on purpose. Or forgotten it completely.
She sat up. Rubbed her eyes. The clock said 7:14 a.m.
Alex never cooked breakfast.
She pulled on a robe and walked out.
He was standing at the stove, back to her, shoulders rigid. Two pieces of bread sat black and smoking in the toaster. He hadn’t noticed.
“Alex?”
He turned fast. Too fast. Eyes dark, pupils blown, like he’d been staring at nothing for too long.
“You’re up.”
“Yeah.” She glanced at the toaster. “You okay?”
He looked at the burnt bread like it had personally offended him. Yanked the plug out of the wall. Tossed the slices into the
