The next morning, the air in the manor felt even heavier than the day before. The fire had left a lingering smell of smoke in the kitchen, but it was nothing compared to the growing unease that seemed to have settled in every corner of the house. Amara hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning as her mind raced with thoughts of Alexander and Lily.
She could hear them now, their voices drifting up from the dining room. They were probably sharing breakfast, laughing about something, and deepening the bond that had started to grow after the accident. Amara’s jealousy flared again, a fire that refused to be extinguished. She had to do something.
As she descended the stairs, she could hear Alexander and Lily talking in low voices, their words too soft to make out but carrying the unmistakable to
