In the car, Aneira sat with her fingers loosely clasped in her lap, her eyes wandering to the window before slowly shifting to her brother beside her. Aiden's jaw was tight, his fingers wrapped so firmly around the steering wheel that the tendons in his hand stood out. He hadn't said a single word since they left the house, and that silence was beginning to crawl under her skin.
There was something… off.
She didn't know why, but she could feel it, the heat of anger rolling off him in thick waves. Not the explosive kind, no. This one was quiet, collected, unreadable. That made it even more terrifying.
Her lips parted slightly, a question forming on her tongue, but it died before it could even take shape. She glanced down, then back at him, searching his profile for any clue. But his face was a mask, one she couldn't read, no matter how hard she tried.
