The night had settled heavily over the Cross mansion, but Elara did not sleep. The words Livia had left behind kept circling her thoughts, not loudly, but in a steady rhythm that refused to fade. Each phrase felt like it was placed carefully, not to scare her, but to shift how she saw everything she had already experienced inside this house.
She stood again by the window, though this time she was not looking at the city. Her reflection looked sharper now, more alert, as if something inside her had adjusted without permission. The silence around her felt different too, no longer empty, but aware, like the house itself was listening.
A faint sound behind her broke the stillness, not a knock, not a warning, just the door opening with calm certainty. She did not turn immediately, because she
