"What did I do to him?" Reyes countered, gray eyes narrowing further under tousled hair, the oversized black sweatshirt straining taut across her broad shoulders as she held Hellen's stare unflinching across the congealing breakfast plates—syrup puddles hardening sticky, bacon curling cold at the edges.
Hellen smirked slow and knowing, ice-blue gaze glinting sharp under loose blonde waves that spilled soft over her gray hoodie collar. "You entered his house and did what you did—don't play coy with me, soldier. I can smell the guilt on you."
"How can you be so certain?" Reyes pressed, scarred jaw ticking faint with restrained tension.
"I can read other people's faces like open books, especially despicable ones like yours," Hellen replied smoothly as silk.
