As I unlocked the front door, the air in the hallway was warmer, but not lighter.
My hair stuck to my forehead from the rain, water dripping from my jacket onto the tiles. The smell of cleaning products and dinner mingled with something else - a silence that waited, as if the house itself had held its breath.
"Lina?" My mother's voice came from the living room, soft, but with an undertone that always tasted of control.
She stepped forward, a kitchen towel in hand, her hair in a messy bun, her forehead creased.
Her gaze wandered over me, lingering on my shoulders.
"You're completely soaked. What happened?"
I was about to say "nothing" as always, the word already on my tongue - but the air shifted behind me, and Alaric stepped into the hallway.
The moment froze.
My mother raised her eyebrows. "Oh."
He stood still, head slightly lowered, as if he knew exactly that his mere presence raised questions.
