Sophia’s P.O.V

The moment I stepped into the house, I knew I was late—too late. The lights were all off except for the one over the dining table, and I caught the soft clinking of cutlery before I even closed the door behind me. My heart sank just a little when I rounded the corner and found my mother seated there, arms folded on the table, eyes steady on a plate of steaming food like she’d been waiting… for hours.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, muttering a soft ...