Lyra lowered her gaze as Zane stared at her, the silence between them stretching tight.
"I thought I asked for room privacy this morning," he said, voice calm but sharp.
"I'm… sorry," she said quickly. "This was an automatic assignment. I can call someone else to handle it—"
"No need," he interrupted. "You're already here."
Lyra hesitated at the threshold, torn between duty and survival. Every instinct told her to run, but walking away would raise more suspicion.
She stepped inside, careful not to look directly at him. But Zane wasn't looking away.
"I keep feeling like I've seen you before," he said suddenly.
Her spine stiffened. "A lot of people say that."
"Do they?" he asked, stepping a little closer. "Strange. I rarely forget a face."
Lyra gave a tight smile and turned her back to start gathering towels.
Zane leaned against the counter, watching her work with narrowed eyes.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
She paused. "No. I moved here two years ago."
Right after everything changed.
He nodded slowly. "Do you have kids?"
The question came so fast it stole her breath. Her hands froze mid-fold.
"What?"
"Kids," he repeated. "Do you have any?"
She forced a calm breath and nodded without turning. "Yes. A son."
Zane was quiet for a long moment. "You're not wearing a ring."
"I'm not married."
"Boyfriend?"
Lyra turned then, finally meeting his eyes. "Are you always this curious about the staff?"
He smirked. "Only when they lie to me."
Her stomach dropped.
"Excuse me?" she said carefully.
"I may not remember where we met," he said, "but I know we've met. And you're hiding something."
Lyra's chest tightened. Every second in that room felt like balancing on the edge of a knife.
She picked up her cart and started for the door. "I'm just a cleaner, Mr. Hogan. That's all."
But as she stepped into the hallway, she heard him say softly behind her,
"Yeah… I don't believe that."