Rose's POV

I stood at the window and looked out into the empty driveway. The house was quieter than I'd anticipated, somehow empty. The echo of my footsteps rang out on the marble floors as I walked from room to room, the stifling silence swallowing me like a dense fog.

Dinner was drawing near, and Rose still hadn't come back. Neither had Jasmine. I hadn't seen either of them in a few hours, and a building sense of worry settled in my chest. I knew Rose was resilient—more resilient than a ...