By afternoon, the cabin had gone quiet again. Bella had taken a book out to the porch, the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair faint through the window. Ivy was inside, curled up on the couch with a blanket and her phone, pretending not to notice Xavier pacing behind her.

He had been restless for the past hour — picking up things, putting them down, glancing her way, and muttering under his breath like a man rehearsing a speech. Finally, Ivy sighed and set her phone aside.