Lia pov

The house was dim when Lia entered, with only a soft light coming from the kitchen. She could perceive the gentle ticking of the clock, the stillness of the night pressing against the walls. As she shut the door, she sensed it. Dante awaited her arrival. She didn't have to lay eyes on him to understand—his presence was akin to a shadow, dense and weighty in the atmosphere. He remained silent for a moment, allowing the quiet to extend between them like a tightened string, becoming ...