Page 53 of Without a Trace
I watched him disappear up the gravel path, shoulders tight, footsteps fast.
“You good?” Alden asked again, quieter this time.
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t.
Not really.
Scarlett
The house was finally still.
Lena and Sloane curled into opposite ends of the couch. The porch light flickered once, then settled. Outside, the trees cracked softly in the breeze.
The air was cooler now, tinged with wood-smoke and something sweet—maybe spilled wine and leftover cake. The quiet felt earned. Fragile.
Kane had mumbled something about setting an alarm before disappearing down the hall. Rhett had gone up earlier without a word. A bag of chips lay forgotten on the floor between the couches.
I stood in the kitchen, lights dimmed low, drinking lukewarm water I didn’t want. My skin still buzzed from the boat. From Traces silence, Alden’s nearness. From everything I wasn’t supposed to feel.
I opened the door to the porch before I could talk myself out of it.
The wood creaked under my feet. The lake stretched out in shadows, moonlight spilling across the surface. The porch lightglinted softly against the curve of someone already out there perched on the railing like he belonged to the night.
Alden.
He was barefoot, hoodie loose over his frame, cigarette pinched between two fingers. He didn’t look surprised to see me.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not even close.”
He offered me the cigarette. I took it, dragged once, handed it back.
“You always smoke after chaos?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Only when it’s real.”
I moved beside him, leaning my forearms against the rail. The silence wasn’t awkward. It just sat there. Familiar. Heavy.
“I wasn’t trying to make him jealous,” I said quietly.
Alden looked past me, tone flat. “Didn’t say you were.”
“You thought it, though.”
He didn’t argue.
“I just needed to feel…”
“Wanted,” he finished.
I nodded.
He turned, finally, and looked at me—really looked. Like he saw past the sharp edges and bravado. “You know, for someone who feels everything so deeply, you’re damn good at pretending you don’t.”
That stung. Because it was true.
