Nicole hadn’t seen Julia since Thanksgiving, but now that winter break had rolled around, her younger sister had chosen the city over the suburbs.
“More fun,” she’d said, tossing her duffel onto the couch like she lived there. “Also, Mom’s already doing the Ethan Wilson sales pitch.”
Nicole snorted. “Ah yes, Deloitte’s finest.”
“Exactly,” Julia said, dropping onto the cushions. “Hard pass.”
Now the two of them were sprawled in joggers and oversized comfy socks, wine in hand, half a pizza cooling on the coffee table. Julia’s glass was mostly for show.
“So,” she said, drawing out the word like a challenge, “how are things with Edgar?”
“They’re… fine,” Nicole said. “I saw his place last weekend.”
Julia perked up. “Wait, really? And?”
Nicole hesitated. “It was… nice. Immaculate, actually. Kind of—clinical?”
“And his mythical perfect parents? Did they live up to the hype?”
Nicole gave a dry laugh. “Nope. They weren’t feeling well. Went to bed before I got there.”
“Both of them?” Julia tilted her head. “At the same time?”
“They’re older,” Nicole said. “He said they have off days.”
Julia squinted. “You’ve been dating for months. They didn’t even say hi? Not even, like, a wave from the top of the stairs?”
Nicole looked down at her wine.
“I thought I might see someone through a window when we left, but… nothing. And the house—” she paused, searching for the right word. “It felt staged. Like no one really lived there.”
Julia straightened a little.
“There was this photo album,” Nicole added. “Tucked behind some books. Old pictures. Him as a kid.”
“And?”
“They didn’t match his stories. His mom was smoking in the kitchen. The place looked messy. And Edgar—he looked… scared.”
Julia frowned. “Scared how?”
“Like he was bracing for something. Even in birthday pictures. It wasn’t a fluke. He had this tight, nervous smile in all of them.”
Julia leaned back, letting out a slow breath. “Jesus.”
Nicole shook her head. “I didn’t ask. I mean, I said something like ‘the house looked more lived in back then,’ and he just said he likes to keep a tight ship.”
“That’s the kind of thing a retired Navy dad says. Not a thirty-something with grocery store flowers and a flip phone.”
Nicole cracked a small smile. “Right?”
They sat there for a moment, the city hum drifting in through the slightly cracked window.
“You like him?” Julia asked, quieter now.
Nicole nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
Julia didn’t push. Just held her gaze a second longer and said, “Then keep your eyes open. That’s all.”
Nicole nodded again, slower this time.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, that photo flickered back—Edgar’s too-still smile, the fear behind his eyes, and the sense that the camera hadn’t just captured a moment.
It had caught something he’d spent years trying to hide