The following morning, the tension in the house still hung thick in the air. The conversation from the night before was far from over, and it was clear that the rift between Stan and I hadn’t been closed.
Angela watched me with a mix of concern and frustration as she moved around the house, distractedly picking up objects and placing them down again, as though trying to quiet her inner turmoil.
Angela approached cautiously, not wanting to further agitate me. “Sophia, are you okay?”
I paused, my hand hovering over a cup as if I was lost in thought. “I don’t know, Angela. I just… I can’t shake what he said. What if it’s true? What if everything I knew was a lie?” My voice cracked, betraying the vulnerability that I tried so hard to suppress.
Leo had gone to work after dropping me back
