The living room was too quiet for comfort.
Vivian stood near the edge of the sofa, her fingers tangled together, her heart thudding in her chest.
She could feel the weight of tension in the air …thick, sharp, suffocating.
Bianca sat opposite her, legs crossed, a glass of juice in her hand, her nails tapping lightly on the cup.
There was something cruel about the calmness in her face.
Vivian’s lips trembled.
“Problem, Bianca,” she said quietly, her voice shaking as she tried to sound brave.
Bianca smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Well, I came here for a very short conversation,” she said, placing the cup on the table beside her.
Vivian frowned slightly.
Her gut told her that whatever was coming wouldn’t end well.
From the hallway, Bianca’s voice echo
