Katherine’s pov
It was the middle of the night.
My throat felt like sandpaper, dry and scratchy. I groaned softly as I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft ticking of the wall clock and the whisper of the wind outside. Reaching for the jug of water on my nightstand, I tilted it—only to find it empty.
“Of course,” I muttered, sighing heavily.
Yawning, I got out of bed, wrapping my arms around myself as I padded barefoot through the cold hallway toward the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, shadows stretching against the walls, silent and looming. Halfway through, a sharp sound echoed from the living room—glass clinking, something small crashing.
I froze mid-step.
My heart gave a small leap.
Do I check it out? I wondered. Or just pretend I d
