Kim staggered through the front door, the sharp scent of whiskey trailing after him like an unwanted memory. His coat was draped carelessly over one shoulder, his shirt untucked and half-buttoned, and his tie dangled from his pocket like an afterthought. The silence of the house wrapped around him, yet it felt deafening—too quiet for a home, too hollow for comfort.

Jane looked up from the couch as the door creaked. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t heard from him all day. For a moment, ...