Nathan stood in the middle of the room, still in his suit, his posture stiff in a way that didn’t match the calm of the evening. The warmth had drained from his face, replaced by something distant that made my heart race before I understood why.
In that moment, I felt something shift without knowing what it was.
“Nathan,” I said softly, “are you alright?”
He didn’t respond.
He walked past me slowly and stopped at the nightstand. Opening the top drawer, he reached inside and pulled out a small key, holding it as if it carried more weight than it should.
The way his hand lingered made my breath catch unexpectedly.
He unlocked the bottom drawer and opened it. Then he turned to me.
“Before we go any further, you need to know the whole truth, Matilda. I’m ready to confess what I’ve done.”
That didn’t sit right. My mind went somewhere I didn’t want it to go, searching for answers that didn’t feel safe.
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