Aurora’s POV

The silence in the dining room settled heavy and suffocating, interrupted only by the soft clink of my butter knife against my plate.

I could feel eyes flicking to me, then away, no one quite willing to break the tension.

I’d grown used to it.

My appetite was gone, but I ate anyway, forcing myself to chew and swallow.

Each bite tasted like cardboard. Still, I kept my movements slow and deliberate, making it clear I wasn’t going anywhere, no matter who wanted me to ...