When we returned to Aurora Crown, the atmosphere felt heavier than the night sky itself. I observed Howard closely—his steps dragging, his shoulders slumped, the exhaustion and grief written in every line of his face. The weight of loss had settled on him like a second skin.
Evelyn glanced at him, her eyes sharp, calculating. Her voice carried that familiar mix of boredom and indifference.
“Since you look so sad, I’m guessing Gerald killed that old fool, Thorne?”
Howard didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her. He simply shook his head weakly, too drained—too broken—to waste words. Without another glance, he walked straight to his room and shut the door behind him.
Evelyn snorted dismissively, her lips curling into that self-satisfied smirk I knew so well.
She turned her attention t
