Dylan's POV
Avery's words, her accusations, echoed in my mind, a constant, gnawing reminder of the chasm that had opened between us. She thought I had poisoned her.
The very idea was a physical blow, a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade. I would never, never intentionally harm her. The thought was anathema to me, a violation of the primal instinct to protect what was mine.
But she didn't believe me. Her eyes, when she looked at me, were filled with suspicion, with distrust, with a coldness that chilled me to the bone. I had to find the truth.
I had to uncover who was behind this, who had dared to harm her, who had planted this seed of doubt in her mind. I had to clear my name, not just for my own sake, but for hers. For us.
I started my investigation subtly, discreetly. I couldn't afford to alert anyone, especially not Avery, to my inquiries. She would see it as further manipulation, another attempt to control her narrative.