(Aaron's POV)
Six PM.
I moved away for a second, to complete a task Tyron entrusted me to get done before the end of the day.
When I return to retake my post at Sanya's door, I hear...
Laughter from the garden. Tara and Mira's voices, too pleased with themselves.
Then—
"What are you DOING?"
Sanya's voice. Panicked. Desperate.
I'm running before I consciously decide to move.
The garden. Fire pit. Flames leaping high.
And Tara standing there, tossing fabric into the fire with methodical precision.
Sanya's clothes.
"Spring cleaning, dear," Tara says sweetly. "These old things needed to go."
"But those are MY clothes!"
I freeze at the edge of the garden, watching in horror.
They're burning everything. Every dress, every shirt. Reducing Sanya's entire wardrobe to ash.
"Oops," Mi
