LUCIEN’S POV
The house was quiet when I returned from the woods. Too quiet. The type of silence that settles in after a storm but just before the next wave hits.
I pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit hallway. The faint scent of lavender and vanilla—Nana’s favorite candles—lingered in the air, but it did little to calm the whirlwind inside me. The long hours of solitude I had spent in the woods had done nothing to ease the weight pressing against my chest.
As I made my way to the living room, I saw her pacing. Nana, in her floral night robe, barefoot on the carpet, worry etched into every line of her face. Her hands wrung together nervously, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall every few seconds. When she noticed me, her steps faltered, and relief swept across her fea
