Alan
Driving up the long driveway, I could feel the tension coiled tightly in my chest, even though Cyril’s hand was resting lightly in mine.
It was a simple gesture, but it grounded me. I couldn’t let go—not for a moment—not when I had nearly lost her before. The car hummed quietly beneath us as the familiar gates of the Vance manor swung open.
I glanced at Cyril. Her eyes were wide, scanning the house as if she was seeing it for the first time in years.
It was the same house she had grown up in—the polished floors, the tall windows, the carved banisters—but there was an emptiness that had haunted these halls ever since she had walked away. She had been right; life here hadn’t been the same without her. And I hadn’t realized just how hollow it felt until now.
“You see?” I said soft
