* Julliane *
The following day came with a foggy, oppressive stillness clinging to Magnolia Manor, the kind that seeps into the bones and whispers that something is amiss. My mother remained locked in her room, the door a silent sentry to her isolation. The incident with my ring had not been spoken of again, the air thick with unspoken words.
I couldn't decide if she was truly unwell or merely playing a role in some intricate game of guilt and manipulation. She had called for her personal nurse again, adding another layer to the small, guarded world she had constructed around herself, despite already having her therapist, Daniel Stone, visit five days a week.
Two bodyguards maintained a constant, silent vigil. Robert, a stoic presence with a sharp gaze, took responsibility for my younge
