Keegan had been friends with Reverie’s father long enough to know when a favor was more of an order. “She doesn’t need much,” her dad had said over the phone. “Just make sure she’s safe while we’re gone.”

When Keegan arrived, he didn’t bother knocking. The house was familiar, and so was the routine. He dropped his bag near the door, his sharp blue eyes scanning the quiet space. Reverie was curled up on the couch, a notebook in her lap, headphones in, completely absorbed in her own world. She didn’t notice him, and he didn’t care to announce himself.

His phone buzzed as he moved toward the kitchen. “You there?” her dad’s message read.

“Yeah. All’s fine.”

“Good.”

Keegan’s lips tightened, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, listening to the quiet hum of the house. Reverie was upstairs, in her room

This wasn’t a social visit, and Keegan had no intention of getting involved in her life. He was here to do a job, nothing more.

As she came down the stairs she saw him