MATILDA'S POV
The air outside his house felt too clean to be real.
It should've probably stank of all the hearts and hopes he'd crushed.
I stood in front of the gates at 6AM exactly, bag strap cutting into my shoulder, eyes slightly burning from lack of sleep. The night had been a mess of tossing and turning.
Gideon Vale’s words did that, he's surely the devil.
Don’t be late.
My jaw tightened at the memory. Like I was already late for something I didn’t even understand. Something I feared I might regret.
The gates opened without sound.
Of course they did.
Everything about him refused noise unless he allowed it.
I stepped inside, my hands curled tightly around the strap.
The driveway stretched too long, black stone polished enough to reflect the sky in a dull, lifeless way. The
