I don't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see steam. Bare olive skin. Water beading on Jordan's shoulders. The stunned look on his face before he turned away.
By dawn, I'm still wide awake, scrolling pointlessly until the phone light burns my eyes. The belt presses into my hips with every shift of position. A constant reminder.
I text Claire. Breakfast? Please.
She responds instantly. On my way. Make the coffee strong. ❤️❤️❤️
I move through the morning in a daze. Every creak of the floorboards makes me tense. Every sound from the guest room below sends heat flooding my face.
When I finally walk into the dining room, Jordan is already at the table beside Dad. Reading the paper. Perfectly calm.
The composure almost offends me.
"Morning," I mumble it without looking at him.
"Good morning, Maya." His voice is steady, neutral. "Did you sleep well?"
"Fine."
"You look tired." Mom sets down a plate of eggs. "Maybe you should rest more."
"I said I'm fine."
The silence around the table is thick enough to chew. I take my seat, stare at my plate. Dad turns a page of his newspaper. Jordan sips his coffee. Normalcy feels obscene.
The doorbell rings. Mom stands. "I'll get it."
Claire bursts in like sunlight, all perfume and energy. "Good morning, everyone!"
Dad nods stiffly. "Claire."
"Sorry to interrupt breakfast. Maya texted me, and I thought I'd stop by." She drops into the chair beside me, grinning. "How's everyone doing this beautiful morning?"
"Very well, thank you." Mom's tone is polite but cool.
Claire turns to Jordan. "You're staying here, right? Maya mentioned it. That's so nice of the Bennetts to host you."
"It is. I'm grateful." Jordan smiles at her, easy and warm. "And you're Maya's friend from school?"
"Best friend. Since middle school. We're basically sisters at this point."
"That's wonderful. It's good to have people you can count on."
"Absolutely. So what are you doing in town? Business?"
"Partly. David and I are working on a church fundraiser project. Planning, outreach, that kind of thing."
"That sounds interesting. Are you involved in ministry?"
"In a way. I do community work. Youth programs, mostly."
Claire leans forward. "That's amazing. Maya's really into art. She wants to study it in college."
I kick her under the table. She doesn't flinch.
Dad clears his throat. "Maya will be attending community college locally. We've discussed it."
"Right. Locally." Claire's smile doesn't slip, but her bright green eyes cut to me. "Still, though. Art is such a great passion to have."
"It's a hobby." Mom refills Jordan's coffee. "Not a career."
"I don't know." Jordan's voice is thoughtful. "Some of the best work I've seen came from people who followed their passions."
Mom's smile tightens. "That's very progressive of you."
The conversation shifts. Claire fills the room with chatter about college applications, summer plans, and a mutual friend's engagement. Jordan responds easily, laughing at her jokes. The ease between them needles me. Claire belongs in every room. I have to fight just to breathe.
I poke at my eggs, listening to laughter that doesn't include me.
Dad clears his throat. "We're having important guests for dinner tonight. The Ellisons."
"Again?" The word slips out before I can stop it.
"Yes, again." His tone carries ф warning. "They're good people. Make yourself presentable, Maya."
"Yes, sir."
After breakfast, I help Mom in the kitchen. Scrubbing platters that don't need scrubbing. Drying dishes that are already dry. Claire left twenty minutes ago with promises to text later.
I'm alone at the sink when Jordan's voice comes from behind me. The electricity in the room changes. I know it's him before he speaks.
"About last night."
I freeze. Don't turn around.
"I'm sorry if I startled you."
"It's fine."
"Maya—"
"Forget it." The words come out too quickly. "It was nothing. We both couldn't sleep. It happens."
Silence. I can hear my own heartbeat. The water running. The distant hum of the refrigerator.
"Okay." His voice is quiet. "If you need anything while I'm here—"
"I won't."
More silence. Then footsteps. The kitchen door swings shut.
The quiet he leaves behind feels heavier than his presence. I hate the disappointment that rushes in to fill it.
Evening brings the Ellisons. Emma in pearls, Michael in a suit that probably costs more than our car. They fill the house with polite noise and expensive perfume.
"What a lovely home." Emma touches Mom's arm. "You have such wonderful taste, Rachel."
"Thank you. We do try to keep things nice."
"And Maya." Emma turns to me, smiling. "You look beautiful. Doesn't she, Michael?"
"Absolutely. A daughter raised with grace."
"You're too kind." I force a smile that makes my face hurt.
Dinner is a ceremony. Fundraisers. Church committees. Plans for "closer ties between families." Rachel beams. Dad pontificates about community values. Jordan contributes thoughtful comments. I smile in the right places while my hands twist the napkin in my lap.
In the kitchen, replacing a platter, Mom leans close.
"You like them."
"They're nice."
"They think very highly of you." She smooths my hair. "This could be very good for our family."
Dad appears in the doorway. "Good people find each other, Maya. Remember that."
I force a brittle laugh. "Can Claire stay this weekend?"
Mom's smile doesn't change. "We'll see."
When the guests leave, I retreat to my room. Open the window. Let cool air hit my face. Breathe until my pulse slows.
Down at the gate, I see Dad talking with Jordan. Their silhouettes framed in the streetlight. Jordan's posture is tense. Head tilted like he's arguing gently. Dad's arms cross. Their voices don't carry, but the body language does.
Jordan glances toward my window.
I step back into the shadows before he can see me. My heart hammers. I think about asking for help. I imagine telling him about the belt. About my parents. About everything.
I imagine the fallout.
I slide the window down until only a line of cool air threads through.
My phone buzzes on the desk.
An email notification. From Mom's account.
Lunch—just us girls. Tomorrow at noon. Wear something nice.
I stare at the words until they blur.