Rhea drew a deep breath that barely steadied her nerves. She opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Tavian sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made it feel like he was trying to read every thought she'd ever had. Jason leaned against the corner chair, his face still faintly pink, fingers locked tight in his lap.
She stepped farther into the room. Her blouse was a soft cream that wrapped neatly around her neck, the fabric skimming her collarbones like a whisper. Her black jeans hugged her leg.
Her gaze moved over them, steady and calm even though her stomach was doing anxious somersaults. She wanted answers. She wanted the truth. But she also knew pushing too hard right now could make them shut down further.
"So," she said, keeping her voice low and even. "Who is ready for dinner."
