Or maybe it’s just me that changes.
 
 Because that’s when I see her.
 
 Francie Salinger is standing in the doorway looking like sin in sneakers and a ponytail. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s holding a half-empty iced coffee like it’s a weapon.
 
 Our eyes meet, and for a second, the room goes quiet. Or maybe it just feels that way.
 
 She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t look away.
 
 And damn it, neither do I.
 
 She’s the last person I need to see right now.
 
 And she’s definitely a complication I don’t have the bandwidth for. Especially not this week. Especially not when every time I close my eyes, I see her mouth on the security feed, whispering my name.
 
 I shift my weight and run a hand along the back of my neck.
 
 Get it together. It’s just Francie.
 
 She’s here for the weekend. You’re here for your niece. Nothing else.
 
 Hudson’s phone buzzes on the table, vibrating against the wood with a low, insistent hum. He snatches it up like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver. “Sorry,” he says to Autumn, who’s holding a crown out to him. “I have to take this.”
 
 She narrows her eyes. “Oh no, you don’t get out of this that easily.” Still gripping the crown, she charges after him. The door swings shut behind them with a thud.
 
 West raises his empty glass, inspecting it like he’s just discovered the tragedy. “I need a refill before she comes back with tiaras.”
 
 Parker chuckles. “I’m coming with you.”
 
 Their footsteps fade down the hall, silence settling in their wake.
 
 I glance toward the door, then back at Francie, who’s turned her back to me, suddenly fascinated by Hudson’s bookshelf like it holds the secrets of the universe.
 
 I clear my throat, but she doesn’t move.
 
 “You know Hudson hasn’t read a single one of those books, right?” I say, just to cut the silence.
 
 She glances over her shoulder, arching a brow. “Let me guess. He bought them in bulk to make himself look intellectual.”
 
 I shrug. “Something like that. Pretty sure he thinks Moby Dick is a seafood restaurant.”
 
 She smiles, and damn if it doesn’t knock the air out of my chest for a second. That smile lights up the room like the first morning rays of sun. It makes my chest tighten.
 
 She turns back to the shelves, running her fingers over the spines like she’s trying to buy time. Or steady herself. I get it. Because every cell in my body is aware of her. Her scent. Her shape. The way she’s studiously avoiding me while also not leaving the room.
 
 “I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” she says finally, her voice softer than before.
 
 “I didn’t plan to be.” I pause. “Work blew up.” She doesn’t need to know about the shitshow that’s been my negotiations with Nathan.
 
 She nods, still not facing me. “That seems to happen to you a lot.”
 
 I don’t argue. She’s not wrong.
 
 A beat passes. I’m not sure if she’s going to say anything else. Or if I should. But then she slowly turns around, arms folded across her chest, like she’s bracing herself.
 
 Her eyes meet mine. They’re calm. Maybe too calm.
 
 Because then she drops it. The killer line.