The room froze.
Water still dripped from Caleb's damp hair, his towel hanging low around his waist, clinging to his hips. Helene stood two steps ahead of him, clutching a pink towel so tightly it looked like a lifeline. Her cheeks were blazing, her breathing shaky. They looked like two thieves caught red-handed.
And then the door opened.
Naya walked in.
"Caleb!" Her voice was casual, almost cheerful, as she stepped inside holding two shopping bags. "You won't believe what—" She stopped mid-sentence. Her bright blue eyes landed on Helene first, then flicked to Caleb. Slowly, her smile faded.
The silence was deafening.
Helene gripped her towel harder, her knuckles turning white. Caleb could feel the tension in the air thick enough to cut through. His pulse hammered like a drum in his ears.
"...What is this?" Naya's voice was calm. Too calm. That was never a good sign.