The morning sunlight broke through the half-closed blinds, casting soft lines across Clara’s face. She blinked awake, her eyes sore from a restless night, her body heavy with exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.
For a moment, she just lay there.
Alone.
The pillow next to hers was untouched—cold, flat.
Clara sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. The events of the night before rushed back all at once: Silas, Julian’s confession, the hollow echo of the door closing behind him.
Her life felt like it had cracked in two… and she was stuck in the middle of the split.
She pulled herself out of bed and padded into the kitchen barefoot. The apartment was too quiet again. She flicked on the coffee pot, trying to focus on the normal things—anything to drown out the chaos in her head.
As
