Chapter 107

EMILIA

I knock on the door to Tessa’s home office for what feels like the hundredth time. Still locked.

Of course it is.

I shift the tray in my hands—a small bowl of fruit, a plain oatmeal, a few slices of toast. Nothing fancy. Just something soft, light. Something she can’t argue with.

She hasn’t eaten since she locked herself in there yesterday. I’m sure of it.

“Tess,” I call gently. “I made you breakfast.”

Silence.

I wait, like maybe this time will be different. It isn’t.

I sigh, resting my forehead against the door.

When I first came back three weeks ago, I let myself believe her behavior was temporary. That the Tessa I knew—stubborn, bright, always two steps ahead of herself—would bounce back. She’d followed me to the station, hadn’t she? Kept her promise. That had to count for something.

But the longer I stay, the more I watch her unravel—quietly, steadily—the more I realize I might’ve come back to a stranger.