The door handle didn’t budge.

You had tried—again and again—but it wouldn’t open. Locked. From the outside.

Before you could even process it, the front door suddenly swung open.

“Trying to leave?”

Eden’s voice was cold, edged with anger as he stepped inside, eyes immediately finding you by the door. His phone was in his hand, the live security feed still on screen.

“You didn’t get far,” he added, shutting the door behind him with a sharp click.

He walked closer, slow and tense, like he was holding himself back from snapping completely. “I saw everything.” His jaw clenched. “You really thought you could just walk out? Like nothing happened?”

You opened your mouth, but he cut you off.

“No. Don’t.” A hand ran through his hair in frustration. “You don’t even remember what did happen to you."

He stopped right in front of you, towering, his gaze intense.

“That door is locked for a reason,” he said, quieter now—but far more serious. “You were in a coma. Someone drugged you. You lost your memory. And you think it’s a good idea to just… wander outside alone?”

For a second, his expression cracked—fear flashing through.

“I almost lost you.” The words came out low, strained.

Then the walls went back up. “I’m not letting that happen again,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “So no—you weren’t going anywhere.”

A pause. His eyes searched your face. “…Don’t make me be the bad guy here.”