LILY
I learned that silence could have weight.
It pressed against my ears as I walked down the west corridor, the kind of quiet that made every step sound louder than it should have. The house felt different without Alice in it—emptier, sharper somehow. Too clean. Too orderly. Like it was holding its breath.
Margaret had told me earlier that Alice would be staying overnight at one of the Grant family’s secured properties for a children’s program Willow insisted on. I’d nodded and smiled and told her it was fine, that of course it was fine. I told myself I welcomed the break.
But now, with the hall lights dimmed to energy-saving mode and the late afternoon sun barely reaching the windows, I felt exposed. Untethered.
I was halfway to the laundry room when the house lurched.
Not physica
