Sonia’s POV
Morning came too bright for the heaviness I carried.
The rain had cleared, leaving the air washed and still, but inside the house, the silence was unnatural, stretched, brittle, waiting to break. The world outside smelled of wet earth and sunlight, yet everything within these walls felt unchanged. Stale. Suspended.
I woke before dawn, long before anyone else stirred. My pillow still smelled faintly of him, that warm, quiet scent of cedar and smoke, and it hurt more than I expected. The events of last night clung to me like damp clothes: the pendant in my hand, Clara’s trembling warning, Alexander’s voice down the corridor saying I didn’t know yet.
I showered, dressed, and moved through the motions of normalcy as if pretending could undo the ache. Downstairs, the housekeeper
