Cynthia sat quietly in her room, her fingers nervously tracing the seams of her robe. The soft afternoon light filtered through the curtains, but it did little to brighten the dim atmosphere inside. It felt colder here, even with the warmth of the sun outside. It was as if the sun’s rays were powerless against the chill that lingered in the air. She sighed, staring at the blank wall before her, lost in thought.
The space was empty, save for her. Empty in the most isolating sense. It was a room that didn’t belong to her, a house that never felt like home. She had been living this way for days now, trapped in the luxurious confines of Mike’s mansion.
The opulence of the house, the expensive furniture, and the pristine marble floors only served as a reminder that none of this was hers. Noth
