Chapter 45

Cassandra sat perched on the edge of their bed, her fingers flying over her phone as she bantered in the Valkyries group chat with her newly adopted “Gurus,” Guru Colin and Guru Eli. The soft glow of the screen illuminated her concentration, and she barely registered the ticking clock on the nightstand. Then her attention snapped elsewhere: through the doorway into the living room, Thomas was slouched on the sofa, his frame leaning forward over the center table, a checkbook open in front of him. He was writing—no, scrawling—into the little stub columns with what looked like barely contained irritation.

“Hon, what are you doing?” Cassandra called out, her brows knitting together as she rose from the bed and headed toward him. She half-smiled, hoping to draw him out of whatever mood clouded his face.

Thomas exhaled heavily, the sound low and flat. “Just writing some checks,” he muttered without looking up, his pen scratching furiously.

She paused a step away, frownin