Amelia’s POV
The house is unnervingly quiet, the usual morning chaos replaced by a heavy, pressing stillness that settles over me like a weight, and I barely have time to react before Elsa appears at the top of the stairs, moving with a predatory grace that makes my stomach lurch with instinctive dread. One moment, I’m walking toward the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, and the next, she’s there, blocking my path with a tilt of her head that exudes malice and a cruel amusement as if she has rehearsed this moment a thousand times and already considers herself victorious. My pulse spikes, adrenaline sharpening every sense, and I realise too late how far she’s willing to go.
“Amelia, you should never have thought this place was safe. Not from me, not ever,” Elsa hisses, voice low and dang
