Twice Taken: 11. Suspicion Ignites

Max had never been one to notice small details—or at least, he hadn’t thought he did. But something about the house tonight felt off. The usual order, the calm predictability he relied on, was fractured.

He parked his car in the driveway, the engine ticking as it cooled, and stepped out into the crisp night air. The house was quiet, too quiet. His footsteps crunched on the gravel path as he approached the front door. Something deep inside him—a mix of intuition and unease—made his stomach twist.

“Elena?” he called softly as he entered, dropping his keys onto the counter. The living room was empty. Candles burned in the kitchen, untouched. The faint aroma of herbs and wine lingered, though no one was cooking.

“Hello?” His voice was calm, measured, but there was an edge to it that only Elena would have recognized.

She appeared from the hallway, dressed in something casual, a scarf wrapped around her neck, hair loosely pinned. Her face betrayed nothing, but the