The silence after Daniel’s ultimatum was worse than any scream.
It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t understanding. It was the sound of a storm holding its breath, and I knew it would break.
I didn’t sleep. Not truly. I lay in bed, stiff and wide-eyed, while Daniel’s body rested like a stranger’s beside me. His back was turned, his breathing steady, the rise and fall of his shoulders deceptively calm. I tried to match it, to pretend I wasn’t drowning, but my chest felt too tight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him watching me—Daniel’s cool gaze pinning me in place like a butterfly under glass.
Hours crawled by. At one point, I thought I heard the boards creak in the hall, a shadow passing under the door, but when I sat up, there was nothing. Just the old house whispering to itself.
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