Faith's POV
Felix had been gone all day.
And honestly? I was relieved.
No awkward glances. No heated silence. No second-guessing every breath I took around him like I was walking a tightrope above a pit of fire….. wearing heels.
Still, I hated how often my thoughts wandered to him. I hated that I missed his presence—his stupid, brooding quiet, the way he filled up a room even when he wasn't saying a word. Ugh. No. Shut up, brain.
By the time I stepped out of my room, the halls were wrapped in that eerie kind of stillness. The sun had sunk halfway behind the hills, drenching the mansion in this golden, haunted glow.
That's when I saw her.
Felix's aunt.
She stood perfectly still, eyes locked on a large oil painting at the end of the corridor, hands clasped like she was praying—or plotting.
I didn't mean to go near her. But something about her silence, the way the light fell across her face—it pulled me in like gravity.
She didn't even turn to look at me.
