Bianca’s POV

The house was quiet, the silence stirring up old memories I didn't want to remember.

I stood in the middle of the hallway, taking in the sight of each room.

I hadn't seen this mansion like this, not since a few days before he died.

My heels clicked softly as I walked further into the mansion.

My gaze fell on the long wall of photographs. I stopped.

There I was, younger, smiling beside my father in one frame after another.

One was our summer picnics, my school ...