The mansion felt twice as big and ten times as cold. Every time I passed the garden where she used to draw, I felt a fresh wave of nausea.
Luther spent most of his nights at his desks, and I spent mine staring at the ceiling of our "impenetrable" suite. The security had been doubled, tripled even, but it felt like a joke now. The fortress had failed when it mattered most. We were living in a tomb, surrounded by people who might have ordered the hit, and for the first time, the pregnancy felt less like a blessing and more like a heavy responsibility to survive a house that clearly wanted us dead.
It was another endless, sleepless nights where the silence of the room felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. The moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains in cold, jagged st
