The next morning dawned too bright, too peaceful for the chaos still simmering beneath the surface of the lake house.
Mia stood on the back porch with a mug of coffee cooling in her hands, staring out at the water. Sleep had been fractured — fragments of Sarah’s broken voice, Ethan’s furious silence after Alex left, and the ghost of those photos haunting every time she closed her eyes.
Her parents had texted late last night: a reluctant agreement to let her stay, but with heavy warnings. One more incident and they were dragging her home.
The screen door creaked open behind her.
“Still replaying yesterday’s greatest hits?” Aunt Lisa asked, stepping out with her own mug and a plate of fresh scones.
Mia offered a weak smile. “Something like that.”
Lisa leaned on the railing beside her.
