The kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, but the light atmosphere was quickly replaced by tension as Constance appeared, her gaze reflecting concern. I continued stirring the spoon in the oatmeal pot, watching her approach.

"Did you sleep well, Constance?" I asked, turning to face her.

She sighed, running her hand through disheveled hair. "Actually, I didn't sleep much. I spent the night thinking about everything you told me and ended up researching some ...