The morning after the confrontation, the mansion was wrapped in a silence so thick it felt like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
The early light creeping through the curtains revealed untouched plates on the dining table and a man on the edge of breaking apart.
James sat on the couch, hands trembling slightly as two police officers stood before him, jotting down details on their notepads.
“So, when was the last time you saw your son, sir?” one of them asked gently.
James’s throat tightened. “Yesterday morning,” he managed, his voice barely steady. “He left for school, like always… he never came back.”
The second officer nodded, glancing briefly at Tiana, who stood by the staircase in a silk robe, her arms folded. She kept pacing restlessly, her brows drawn, her sighs
