Elin's POV

Night had deepened into an inky shroud, the villa's clock ticking relentlessly like a countdown etched in my veins, each second a hammer-strike against the fragile shell of my composure. The hearth's flames danced fitful in the living room, casting flickering shadows across the Christmas tree, its colored lights twinkling like distant, mocking stars—brilliant yet utterly failing to illuminate the hollow void gnawing at my heart.

Aaron still hadn't returned; from the afternoon's ...