Hello, Sister.

Caius was standing there.

Just inside the closet. His eyes were on hers—steady and unreadable—but he didn't dare look anywhere else. His gaze remained only at her face.

Heather's stomach dropped so fast it felt like the floor tilted beneath her.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, climbing up her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her skin prickled with heat—not from the leftover warmth of the bath, but from raw, creeping embarrassment.

She was completely bare.

And not just standing up, not even just walking across the room. She had been bending down when he knocked something over, unaware, completely exposed and completely vulnerable.

For a second, neither of them moved. The only sound was the faint drip of water sliding from her damp hair onto the closet floor.

Her breath hitched in her chest. Her lips parted slightly, words formed but never made it out. She was too stunned to speak.