The home theater was dim, the glow from the frozen movie scene catching on Rafael Vexley's sharp features. Mia and Jack's rain-soaked dance was stuck mid-spin on the massive screen, the moment hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence. The smell of popcorn still lingered, faint and buttery, from the bowl cooling on the table beside him.
Rafael leaned back into the plush leather couch, letting himself sink in, playing the part of the man who couldn't move or see. Ten minutes had passed since Eliana had left to grab more soda—way too long for a quick kitchen run. His thoughts started to turn. What if she'd tripped, her arm in that sling making her clumsy? What if she'd dropped a glass, and it shattered across the marble like sharp little accusations? The idea nagged at him, unsettling in a way he didn't like to admit.
