Graham’s Point Of View

The air in the foyer was thick with tension, so heavy it pressed against my skin like a physical weight. Elena stood there, her suitcases at her feet, her dark eyes burning with a fire I hadn’t seen in years. My mother’s words hung between us, sharp and venomous, the threat of losing everything she’d built… everything she had worked hard for, lingering like a curse.

"Mom… stop." My voice was low, a warning, but my mother ignored me, her lips curling into a ...