LIA’S POV

The property is excessively silent. However, it’s the incorrect type of silence. No tranquility. No safety. The type of silence that scratches at your skin, warning you that something terrible is imminent. Antonio sits opposite me, sipping his whiskey as if we’re merely a typical father and daughter enjoying a drink together. However, we are not. We have never been. He observes me with deliberate patience, biding his time for me to break. “Have you come to terms with your ...