**Winter's POV**
The halls seemed both familiar and eerie as I followed Sarge, their familiarity marred by the memories of arguments and betrayal. Even the comforting scent of aged wood and lavender did little to ease my unease. As we reached a secluded room at the end of the corridor, Sarge paused, glancing back at me.
“Please, just come home, Winter,” he implored, his eyes softening. “I’ll talk to Dad and get him to change his mind.”
"You know Dad would never change his mind, Sarge, not about this,” I replied, feeling the weight of our impossible situation. “I just can’t do it.”
His shoulders sagged, hurt evident in his eyes. He genuinely cared, but he also didn’t grasp the depths of my resolve.
“How did you even know I was in there?” I asked, trying to shift the focus.
“I saw you
