AUTHOR’S POV
The second day after Christmas passed in silence. Wanda hadn't left her bed once. The curtains remained drawn, the room dim and stale from the weight of sleepless nights. She lay on her side, facing the wall, with her hair tangled against the pillow.
Phyllis entered quietly, holding a tray with steam curling in the air from a bowl of soup and toast she knew Wanda liked. She placed the tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should eat something," she said softly. "You haven't eaten anything all day."
Wanda didn’t answer, and Phyllis sighed, smoothing the blanket over Wanda’s shoulder. “Just a little. For me.” There was still nothing, and Phyllis straightened.
“I found someone to carry out our plan,” she said. And Wanda stirred, slowly pushing herse
