“John…” she whispered, breathless.

His gaze, previously lost, turned icy.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“I… I was making coffee,” she replied, confused, her eyes wide, her breath caught.

“Why were you singing?”

“I like to sing…” she murmured, almost inaudibly.

He stared at her for a moment, then said coldly:

“Don’t sing.” The words came like a sentence. “I don’t want to hear you sing. Do you understand?”

Elizabeth nodded slightly, swallowing hard.

But her eyes… her e