Sonia’s POV
I backed away slowly, then turned and walked quickly toward the stairs. I could still hear her voice faintly behind me, muffled, as if she was saying goodbye to whoever was on the phone.
By the time I reached the bottom of the staircase, my hands were trembling.
The living room was washed in that dim, quiet light that comes before sunset, everything soft, still, almost too still. I sat down on the couch and stared at the reflection of the chandelier in the polished table, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard.
Was she really talking about me?
Or was my mind twisting her words into something they weren’t?
I wanted to believe the latter. I wanted to believe that I was overthinking. But the more I replayed her words, the more they echoed in all the wrong places.
I pul
