Stanley's POV
The house was still, but the stillness here was not peaceful. It was quiet with substance, weighing heavily on the walls, thinning the air like a rope that could cut at a single pull. Liana leaned beside Serena on the couch, knees bent toward her, with that soft, deliberate voice she reserved for certain people. Her tone had an edge that was enough to remind you that she was not the kind of woman who cracked under stress.
Serena's skin was white, her eyes darkened from too many nights without proper sleep. Her hands tugged at the string on her hoodie, tightening knots in it tighter and tighter, as if she could pull so hard that she would untangle the entire mess. This was a habit for her that I had noticed over the past weeks.
I stood at the back of the room, somewhat hid
