CHAPTER 3: Cracks in the Safe Places8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWyK0jCoPah
Cathy’s POV
Cathy liked her routines.
They made her feel in control. Alive. Useful.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVQBvfUgLCZ
One cup of coffee at seven.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJmc9Hl593K
One review quiz before eight.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0VBgtZmnwA
A quick call to Ethan before nine.
Except today, he didn’t answer.
She tried again. And again.
On the fourth ring, it went to voicemail.
Her chest tightened, but she laughed it off. “Probably still asleep,” she muttered, even though she knew better. Ethan didn’t sleep in. He never did.
Not since his mother died.
She picked up her phone and typed:
Baby, everything okay? Haven’t heard from you. Want me to bring your favorite sandwich later? I miss you already.
She stared at the message for a moment before hitting send.
Something about the silence lately made her stomach twist in ways she couldn’t explain. Ethan was distant. Not cold—but not the boy who used to call her at 3 a.m. just to hear her breathing, either.
He always said it was the house.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXrfoXpiYUh
The new woman.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ20RYWzOUdV
The changes.
Still… Cathy had a sinking feeling it wasn’t just the house anymore.
Later that afternoon, she drove to the Villegas estate.
The guards still smiled at her. The staff still bowed. But the home itself felt… quieter than usual. Tense. As if it were holding its breath.
When she walked in, the first person she saw was Janina.
Perfect Janina.
Janina with the dainty dress and soft waves and painfully unreadable smile. Janina who always looked like she was in mourning even while dressed in silk.
“Cathy,” Janina said, polite but distant. “Ethan’s in the studio.”
“I know where it is.” She smiled, sharp and practiced. “Thank you… Tita.”
The older woman flinched.
Cathy didn’t stop to apologize.
The studio was where Ethan kept his chaos. Unfinished compositions, random books of poetry, old records. It was the only place in the house that still smelled like him—mint, coffee, and something raw.
He was seated by the piano when she entered. Eyes closed, fingers hovering above the keys. Lost in thought.
He looked so beautiful, it hurt.
“Hey,” she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He turned, startled, but softened when he saw her. “Hey. Sorry, I forgot to call.”
“You okay?”
He paused. Then nodded. “Just… noise in my head.”
She sat beside him. “Want to talk?”
He looked at her, and for a moment, she thought he would. But then his gaze dropped to her lips, then to the space between them.
“Not yet,” he whispered.
She nodded. “Okay. But I’m here. Always.”
He smiled, kissed her temple, and rested his head on her shoulder.
Cathy closed her eyes.
But even as they sat like that, quietly, together…8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhSu86TmPDz
She couldn’t shake the thought:
Who was in his head—8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡokkU3fDIEe
And why wasn’t it her?
