I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lily’s face. The sharp suspicion in her stare, the curl of her mouth when she looked at me in the hallway. She hadn’t said anything after walking in that night—but the silence was worse than words. It was waiting. Watching.
By morning, my nerves were shredded. I lingered at the top of the stairs, listening to the murmur of voices below. Mom’s laugh. Mark’s steady tone. Lily’s occasional clipped responses.
Normal. Too normal.
I forced myself down, each step heavier than the last.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Mom said cheerfully, sliding a plate toward me.
Mark glanced up, just a flicker of heat in his eyes before he masked it. But Lily—Lily didn’t look away. Her gaze pinned me as I sat down, her smirk barely hidden.
“So,” she said casually
