The night descended quietly upon the estate. Muted lights glowed along the corridors, the summer chill slowly crept between the walls, and the green pulses of the security system flickered in rhythmic silence across the monitors. The estate was watching—alert, silent, and unyielding.
In Andromeda’s new room, everything was in order. The bed was made with clean, soft linens. Warm hues were cast onto the walls by the hidden lighting, and a cup of steaming chamomile tea sat untouched on a small table. The space had been arranged exactly how she’d asked—nothing flashy, nothing cold. Warm light. Natural textures. Open space. A soft blanket. A room that, finally, didn’t feel like a prison.
But Andromeda didn’t fall asleep peacefully. She crashed. Exhausted, drained, weightless. The debris of t
