Jonathan's POV
After Ethel left me stranded in that park, I finally forced myself to return home. The house I had avoided since Savannah received those cursed flowers.
The moment I stepped through the door, the stench of dried blood hit me like a physical blow. The metallic smell mingled with something worse - the sickly sweet odor of decay. Water had seeped deep into the wooden floors, creating dark patches of mold that spread like a disease across the carpet. Wilted flower petals lay scattered everywhere, brown and rotting.
I stood there for a moment, overwhelmed by the destruction. This was what remained of our home. What remained of everything I had failed to protect.
My legs felt heavy as I moved toward the cleaning supplies. What else could I do? Ethel had accomplished more in her attempts to save Savannah than I had managed in weeks. All the blood on my hands, all the lives I had taken with these claws - none of it had mattered.
