The gates of a dim, gloomy house creaked open. The walls were dull, and the air held a somber weight. Everything seemed steeped in darkness, emanating an unsettling aura, as if some tragedy had occurred here.
Collin carefully lowered Ashlee onto the sofa, her body showing signs of distress—her feet, arms, and even her neck were bruised. How had she been running so recklessly?
“Are you hungry?” he asked gently, kneeling in front of her.
“No, thank you,” she whispered, her eyes scanning the room. It was nothing like Kyle’s mansion. This place felt heavy with sorrow, as if demons themselves had once lingered here. Why did it feel so mournful?
“Something to drink?” he asked again, offering his hand to hers. She flinched, startled by his sudden gesture.
“Uh… yeah. Maybe just a glass of wa
