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And that somehow made it worse.

I selected one of my favourite rewatches and sat down on the couch, grabbing the blanket that I could swear had also magically appeared, and pressed play.

I wasn’t really watching it. I just hoped the sound would drown out my racing thoughts.

I wasn’t sure how long passed before a knock came.

They didn’t wait for a response.

Ember stepped in with a basket of laundry balanced on her hip. She paused when she saw me, eyes flicking to the TV, then the books.

“Huh,” she said. “Guess he followed through.”

“On what?” I asked.

She shrugged. “He didn’t want you bored.”

That landed harder than it should’ve.

She crossed into the bedroom and started unloading the basket onto the chair like this was any other day.

It wasn’t.

A minute later, the door swung open again.

Rio leaned against the frame like he owned it.

“Well, damn,” he said. “First time in here.”

Ember shot him a look. “You weren’t invited.”

“I never am.” He grinned. “Still. Feels historic.”

I didn’t look too closely at how my chest loosened anyway.

“So,” Rio went on, eyes flicking to the TV, “you’re officially being spoiled.”

“I think I’m being managed,” I said.

He laughed softly. “Yeah. That too.”

He didn’t stay long.

“People are talking,” he added casually.

“About?” I asked.

“You.” He rolled his eyes. “Some think you’re lucky. Some think you’re dangerous. Others don’t care because they figure you’re temporary.”

Ember didn’t look up.

Rio met my eyes. Not cruel. Not judgmental. Just honest. “No one really knows what to do with you yet.”

“Good,” I said.

He smiled once. “They don’t have you figured out.”

He didn’t wait for an answer.