Chapter 1 - The Silence After the Water StoppedThe bathroom door clicked shut against the tile, sealing in the last wisps of steam. Owen stood there with a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his dark hair onto his collarbones. The casual, humming creature who had walked into the bathroom twenty minutes earlier was gone, replaced by a man whose posture had instantly turned rigid.
He took one step forward, his bare feet making a soft sound against the hardwood floor.
"Put the phone down, Clara," Owen said, his voice stripped of all its usual warmth, sounding sharp and hollow.
Clara didn’t move. She remained seated cross-legged on the edge of the bed, the screen of his phone glowing faintly against her palms. The name "M" still sat mockingly at the top of the unminimized chat window.
"You knew I was in the house," Clara said, her voice terrifyingly quiet. It wasn’t a question. It was an execution of fact. "You left your phone on the counter on purpose. Or maybe she was supposed to call earlier, while I was downstairs making dinner."
"Clara, let's not make this a cinematic drama," Owen muttered, stepping closer, his hand outstretched as if he could snatch the device away by force. "It’s not what it looks like. Marissa... she had a moment of panic. She was joking around. It's a sick joke."
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"A joke," Clara repeated, finally looking up. Her eyes were completely dry, burning with a cold clarity that made Owen flinch and drop his hand. "She said I didn't suspect a thing while smelling like your skin. That isn't a joke, Owen. That’s a signature."
Without another word, Clara stood up, bypassed him completely before he could lunge, and walked straight out of the bedroom, locking the door behind her with a sharp, echoing click.
