The guest bedroom was dim, washed in soft amber light from a single bedside lamp. The mansion, which only hours ago had echoed with gunshots and screams, now felt like a held breath — walls listening, shadows resting where they fell. The immense marble halls muffled his footsteps, a false sense of peace after the recent chaos. The silence here wasn't empty; it was heavy, the kind that follows a loud, terrible noise, waiting, always waiting, for the next one.
Marcus carried Nera carefully.
