Lyssa's POV:

The car finally halted in front of a strange yet beautiful building, and as Michael, my childhood friend, stepped out from the driver's seat, I followed suit from the front seat. He could see the questions in my eyes as he glanced at me, but before I could say anything, he broke the silence.

"This house is one of mine," Michael began, his voice calm and soothing. "I come here when I need to be alone, especially when I'm working on my songs as a musician."

I nodded, taking in the ...