Elara's POV
The house felt different when we got back. Same walls, same furniture, same kitchen light Mom always left on when she expected people home late. But something in the air had shifted. Like the place had absorbed everything that had happened and was still deciding what to do with it.
Mom made tea without asking if anyone wanted it. Alexander sat at the kitchen table and looked at his phone and did not say much. Damien stayed close to me without making it obvious, his hand brushing my arm when he passed, his eyes finding mine across the room every few minutes. I let it settle around me. The ordinary sounds of a house at night. The kettle. The chairs. The low hum of the refrigerator.
I sat down and Damien sat beside me and Mom put cups in front of us and for a few minutes nobody
