Dawn arrived reluctantly, dragging a thin veil of gray across the horizon as though the sky itself feared what the new day would bring. The estate felt different that morning—too still, too quiet—as if every stone had learned the truth they uncovered the night before and was now holding its breath.
Liora woke before the sun had fully risen. Her dreams had been restless, fractured visions of corridors collapsing and voices calling her name from unreachable distances. She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers curling into the blanket as she waited for her heartbeat to stop racing. It didn't.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
She knew it was Aric even before he spoke.
"May I come in?"
His voice was gentle, but beneath it lay tension—like a rope pulled taut, one frayed thread away from snapping. Liora rose and opened the door. Aric stood there, hair slightly damp from the morning air, a stack of documents tucked under his arm. He looked as though he hadn't slept at all.
