Lauren
The mansion felt unfamiliar the moment I stepped inside, despite the countless times I’d been here before. It used to feel warm, but now it was heavy, as if the air itself braced for the storm we were about to unleash.
The walls were still the same pale gray, the sleek, modern furniture—Alexander’s taste, not mine—but Sophia’s presence lingered in the little things: red roses in every room, dark drapes, framed paintings I knew he’d never have chosen. Only she could pick something so gaudy.
I set my bag down and glanced at Alexander. He stood behind me, stiff, hands deep in his pockets. For a moment, he looked like the man I used to know—the one I’d loved so fiercely it nearly destroyed me. But the moment passed, his face hardening again.
“You can take the guest room,” he said,
