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Worse, some pathetic part of me wanted to know what he thought. Had he laughed at my dancing? Judged the laundry piles? Screamed at whatever screen he watched through while I survived on caffeine and chicken nuggets?

My hand reached for my phone before pride could stop it.

Kalon’s name glowed on the screen. The choice should have been easy, but my fucked-up brain continued making everything difficult. For one night, just one night, I wanted to LARP as a fully sane person.

I called him.

He answered on the second ring. “Liv?” His voice was rough with sleep, and my stomach swooped before I reminded it we had bigger problems.

“I found cameras.”

The line went silent. “Where are you?”

“My apartment.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Is he there?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Lock the door and stay away from the windows. I’m coming.”

The call ended before I could thank him.

For once, I followed instructions. My stomach had started acting untrustworthy, and throwing up in the empty wire trash can beside the counter would only make tonight more humiliating.

Ten minutes later, someone knocked. “Liv,” Kalon said from the hall. “It’s me.”

I checked the peephole before opening the door. He stood outside with his hands visible, shoulders tense, and jaw locked hard enough to look painful. His eyes moved over my face first.

Kalon waited until I stepped aside before entering. The ward hummed beneath the frame when he crossed.

“It still doesn’t like me,” he said.

“Yeah, well, join the club.”

His mouth shifted, though his attention remained serious. He closed the door, placed his hand on the deadbolt, and glanced back at me.

“Is locking it okay?”

I blinked. “What?”

“The door.”

That tiny question hit harder than it should have. “Yeah. Lock it.”

He turned the deadbolt and sat at my cramped kitchen table while I lined up the dead cameras between us. The chair looked child-sized with him in it. He rested one elbow against the table and studied each device without touching anything.

“So,” I said, because his silence kept crawling over my skin. “You’re doing the scary calm thing.”

“He placed these inside your home.”

“Yep.”

“After breaking in.”