The afternoon light filtered softly into the kitchen as Jacob and Lydia sat at the small dining table, the smell of warm stew filling the air. It was one of those peaceful afternoons when everything seemed calm—David had gone out, and the whole mansion felt like it belonged only to the two of them.
Lydia smiled faintly, stirring her spoon in her bowl. “Jacob,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
Jacob looked up from his plate, a curious smile touching his lips. “Of course, Lydia. You can ask me anything.”
She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her hands. “I’ve been wondering… about your parents. You’ve never told me anything about them.”
Jacob’s smile faded slightly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting toward the window as though the answer
