Chapter 68

• Harper's POV
• Mark turns, his body stiffening as his eyes lock on the mess. The warmth that had been so close only a moment ago vanishes from his expression. He doesn't speak at first, only stares at the broken glass with a look I can't place. There is no shock in his face, no confusion, only something cold and coiled.
• “That was my grandmother’s,” he says, his voice so quiet it feels louder than a shout. “She gave me those glasses before she died.”