Chapter 150

Harper’s POV

The light is starting to shift, that golden edge of late afternoon stretching across the table where my scissors rest. My fingers ache from gripping fabric too long, and my neck’s stiff from leaning over the draft for hours, but I don’t stop.

I can’t.

Not when it’s finally quiet enough to hear my own thoughts again. Not when the world outside this room doesn’t feel like it’s pressing in, waiting for me to slip. Here, in this little circle of fabric and thread and silence, I feel like myself. Like someone worth becoming again.

The soft creak of the door barely registers at first. Then I hear him, his footsteps, heavier than Mason’s, more deliberate than Nathan’s. Theo.

I glance up, and he’s already crossing the room, his face unreadable but warm in that way that always ma