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AUTHOR’S POV
The house had never felt so empty.
Vincien sat in the dimly lit living room, his hands steepled under his chin, his entire body tense.
He hadn’t moved in over an hour, simply watching Sloane from across the room, waiting.
Waiting for her to say something.
Anything.
But she never did.
She sat curled up on the couch, her frail frame almost lost in the thick fabric of the oversized sweater she wore.
Her knees were pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them in a way that made her look impossibly small.
She was awake, but barely. Her gaze was vacant, staring at nothing in particular, lost somewhere far beyond their reach.
Vincien clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists.
It had been days since she had last spoken to him. Days of unbearable silence.
