Stanley hadn’t spoken in forty-three minutes.
Orla counted every one of them in silence as they drove home.
His jaw clenched. His fingers strangled the steering wheel. The headlights caught the sharp angles of his face, but not his thoughts. Not tonight.
Leah’s words still echoed.
“You didn’t just let her die. You watched her burn.”
Orla had no answer to that. No denial. Only a memory she wished had drowned with her years ago.
But Stanley wasn’t ready to look at her again.
He parked outside the house without a word.
Got out.
Left the door wide open behind him.
She followed.
Inside, the hallway lights buzzed. The air had a sharp, metallic tang — like copper and smoke.
Orla went to close the front door. Froze.
On the porch, something sat waiting.
Wrapped in brown paper.
Her na
