The following morning, the manor felt more tense than ever. The echoes of last night’s confrontation still hung in the air, and Lily wasn’t sure how to approach the day. She woke early, her mind clouded with thoughts of Alexander, Amara, and the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.
As she wandered downstairs, the house was quiet—almost too quiet. The usual clinking of dishes, the soft hum of voices, were absent. It was as if everyone had retreated into their own corners, trying to make sense of the chaos.
When Lily stepped into the kitchen, she found Amara sitting at the table, her eyes red and swollen from crying. For a moment, Lily froze, unsure of how to handle the situation. She could sense Amara’s pain, but after everything that had happened, she didn’t know if she could
