Stefan's POV
Sleep was restless and broken.
I jolted awake, the bright numbers on the alarm clock showing 7:18 a.m. The house felt dead, empty after the shitshow of last night’s dinner replaying in my head on an endless loop. I remembered my dad's calming voice, Alice’s dramatic exit, and Odessa—sitting there like a striking statue amidst the madness. A dull ache began to throb in my head, a mix of leftover anger and a restless energy that I couldn’t shake off.
My mouth was dry as hell, like I’d swallowed sand. I needed water, maybe something stronger, but water would have to do for now.
I kicked off the duvet, my muscles screaming from a night twisted up in sheets. I didn’t bother with a shirt—just yanked on the same low-slung jeans from yesterday, the denim scraping against my skin
