The lake house no longer felt like a sanctuary. It felt like a cage. The windows, wide and clear, seemed to watch Sierra with her mother’s eyes. The walls pressed closer each night. Even the quiet lapping of the lake sounded like a clock counting down, each wave echoing tick, tick, tick.
Sunday. That was the deadline. By Sunday night, Vanessa expected the truth or she would use what she had. Sierra could hardly breathe beneath the weight of it.
Damien had told her not to panic, to obey, to endure. But how was she supposed to endure when every look from her mother burned like acid on her skin?
A Fragile Morning
Vanessa cooked breakfast the next day, humming softly as she worked. Bacon sizzled in the pan, eggs steamed, and toast popped up golden. She moved with such grace it was almost c
