Aaron's POV

Stepping out of Clara's guest room, the hallway's chill wind hit like a barrage of tiny, insidious barbs—each gust a fragmented sneer echoing the farce I'd just endured. The door slammed behind me with a resounding thud, but I didn't glance back, not even a flicker of regret or curiosity. Arthur growled low in my chest, a visceral rumble of disgust at the lingering taint in the air—her seething hatred, her unhinged frenzy, clinging like a noxious fog that twisted my stomach ...