Walking a few steps ahead of me, the woman I now knew as Dominic’s mother guided me down the hallway. She didn’t rush me. She didn’t hover. Her presence was calm, steady—like she understood that my body was here, but my mind was still catching up.
“This is your room, sweetheart,” she said gently.
The moment I stepped inside, something twisted in my chest.
It felt like I had lived here.
Not happily.
The air carried echoes—heavy ones. Lingering sadness. Sleepless nights. Despair that clung to the walls like it had soaked into them. The feeling was so strong it made my stomach turn.
And yet… it felt wrong to feel that way.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
Dominic wasn’t the source of this darkness. He was trying—trying so hard it hurt to look at him. The care in his voice, the way his hands s
