Chapter 50: Hannah

Dinner was as awkward and tense as I had anticipated—and more. Zoe sat opposite me, rigid, her gaze fixed on her plate as she silently nibbled her food. The tight set of her lips and furrowed brow clearly indicated she wished to be anywhere else. Why had she even accepted Drake's invitation? She could have refused. But then again, so could we.

To my left, Noah nursed a whiskey, his free hand toying with the silverware, the metal clinking sharply against the china every few minutes. His eyes darted between me and Drake with thinly veiled disdain, as if he couldn't decide which of us he despised more. Drake, however, simply smiled his charming smile, seemingly unfazed by the palpable awkwardness. He made small talk, commenting on the wine and the restaurant's décor.

I could barely eat, my stomach churning with anxiety. Noah's stare felt like a weight, silently judging my every move. I wanted to shrink away, to disappear.

"So," Drake said, cutting his steak. "Noah, I'm grateful you and Hannah welcomed Zoe back to Nightcrest. It's good to see her in a safe, familiar place during our… break."

Zoe snorted softly into her wine. I froze, glancing at Noah.

"Break?" Noah asked. "From what I understand, you're divorcing, not taking a break."

"Yes, well…" Drake popped a piece of steak in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and continued. "Love endures." He glanced between me and Noah, implying something I didn't want to consider.

Love, I thought, glancing at Zoe. She didn't seem in love; she seemed to want to leave. As did I.

Noah stared into his glass, but didn't argue. Strained silence returned, broken only by silverware and the low hum of classical music. It was torture. I longed to escape this nightmare. Anything to avoid the simmering hostility and Zoe's penetrating gaze. Did she know about my arrangement with Drake?

Finally, Drake set down his napkin and leaned back.

"Well, this has been a delightful dinner party," he announced, his tone sarcastic. "But I was hoping for more than dinner."

I frowned, exchanging a confused look with Noah. "What did you have in mind?" I asked.

A slow smile curved Drake's lips as his gaze settled on me. "Nightcrest has a famous haunted attraction, doesn't it? The Emily House?"

My eyebrows rose. The Emily House, a mansion atop a hill, was said to be haunted by a spirit named Emily. A family had reportedly been terrorized there in the 80s, leaving everything behind. Now, it was a tourist attraction—daytime tours and a haunted house attraction on Friday nights. An attraction for edgy teenagers.

"You can't be serious," I managed, laughing.