The music from the other room thuds through the walls. Piper’s laughter, sharp and delighted, fades as her footsteps retreat.

Beside you, Damien Therson exhales slowly. You can feel the heat of him in the dark, the faint brush of his arm against yours. He’s already shifted, leaning back against something that creaks. A shelf, maybe. He doesn’t speak right away. Just lets the silence stretch, the way he always does when he’s waiting to make his move.