Ares

Sometimes peace scared me more than chaos ever did.

Because peace meant I had something to lose.

It had been two months since Atlas’s redemption speech, and the world had settled into a rhythm I’d never known before — mornings filled with Hope’s laughter, Alina humming softly in the kitchen, sunlight spilling over polished floors that used to echo with silence.

Sterling Manor was alive again.

And yet, every night when the house quieted, I felt that old unease stirring ...