Lavender pov
I learnt something important about fear that morning, it is not loud. It doesn’t scream or collapse into panic the way people imagine. Fear is quiet, methodical, It sharpens your senses until every breath feels like a decision. I wake before dawn, before the house remembers to be alive. There is no alarm. I don’t need one anymore. Sleep has abandoned me these past nights, leaving me half-aware, floating just beneath consciousness like I’ve been waiting for a signal only I can hear.
The ceiling above me is pale, cracked faintly at the edges. I’ve memorized every line, every flaw. It’s strange the things you commit to memory when you know you’re leaving them forever. I sit up slowly, listening.
Nothing, no footsteps, no voices, no doors opening or closing. The silence is deli
