Evelyn’s POV
Evelyn sat at the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up, arms wrapped tight around herself. The late afternoon light entered through the tall windows, painting the room in gold, but it brought her no comfort.
For hours, she had tried to distract herself — folding laundry that had already been done, rereading the same page of a book without seeing the words, even pacing the long corridor outside her room. But nothing worked. The stillness pressed in from every corner, suffocating her, as though the house itself was waiting for her to break.
Her mind kept circling back to Carmen. To the way her friend’s voice had been both teasing and serious when she’d said: Of course you’re falling for him. You’re living in his house, carrying his child. Don’t lie to yourself.
Evelyn pressed
