Mariana’s Pov

I sprint down the stairs, my breath ragged and uneven. Each step feels like a countdown, a drumbeat driving me toward the only place I know will give me answers. My fingers skim the banister for balance, but it does little to steady me.  

The house feels colder than usual, the air thicker, pressing against me like a warning. I push through it. My heart pounds louder with every step, drowning out the sound of my underfoot padding violently against the floor.  

When I ...