Day sixty-one arrived wrapped in the same persistent drizzle that made everything in Willow Creek feel intimate and heavy. The house on Maple Lane was quiet again, but the quiet now carried anticipation and tension in equal measure. Amina’s text had come in at 6:20 a.m.: “Noah asked if he could come home with me for a weekend soon. He really wants to meet you guys. I said I’d ask. Is that too soon?”
Elias read it while I was still tangled in his arms, his body curved possessively around mine from behind. His morning hardness pressed hot and insistent against me. His grip tightened instantly.
“He wants to meet us,” he said, voice low and rough. “Some college kid named Noah wants to come into our house and look at the man who’s secretly trying to put a baby in his girlfriend’s best friend.
