The knock was barely above a whisper, but the voice that followed was unmistakable. And the moment it asked, "Donnie, is everything okay?" Summer's head snapped toward the door so fast her hair swished across her cheek.
Her heart stuttered in her chest, and before she could even think to move, she heard the soft click of Don's remote.
His hand, resting easy on the dresser, held the small black device like it was just another extension of his laziness. The door unlocked with a quiet, almost smug defiance.
"Don?" she hissed, eyes wide, a silent, furious question blazing in her gaze.
But he didn't look at her. His attention stayed on the door, mouth pressed into a thin line. The door opened.
