Caught After Curfew

Jane slipped off her heels the second she cleared the front door, padding barefoot down the hallway like someone who’d learned to move through this house without making a sound. She was two doors from her room when a thin slice of light from Jessie’s doorway pulled her up short. She meant to keep walking. No good ever came from poking into her stepsister’s business, especially not this late. Then voices, low, carrying that warm weight voices have when secrets are being traded. One glance through the crack, and everything froze. Helena and Jessie stood close, too close, mouths meeting like they had done this before, hands sliding over fabric and skin like the world outside that bedroom didn’t exist. Jane’s stomach dropped, heat rushing up her spine, jealousy rising faster than shock. She told herself to turn around, but her legs wouldn’t listen. She watched Helena’s fingers trace the waistband of Jessie’s shorts, watched Jessie lean in like she’d been starving for that mouth all day. Something cracked in Jane. She threw the door wide and stepped inside before her brain could finish arguing with her pulse. Helena spun first. “Do you know what time it is?” she snapped, embarrassment sharpening the words. Jane’s mouth opened without mercy. “Do you know what you just did in front of me?” The air tightened. Jessie’s lips still shone. Helena searched for a defense that never arrived. The older woman’s shoulders dropped. “We’ve all screwed up tonight,” she said quietly, finally, meeting Jane’s eyes instead of avoiding them. The silence that followed was thick, no one quite breathing. Then Helena exhaled like she’d already decided something. “If being left out hurts this much, come here. Fix it with us.”