A House Built on Silence
LAURA’S POV
The first morning back in the Reed mansion felt like waking up in a stranger’s bed.
The sheets were too soft. The silence too loud. The memories tucked in every corner a little too sharp.
I sat on the edge of the bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, my fingers tangled in the hem of Elijah’s shirt—one of the few things I hadn’t packed when I left.
I didn’t know why I’d kept it.
Maybe part of me still held onto some foolish idea of home.
But home didn’t look like granite walls and designer rugs.
It looked like safety.
Trust.
It looked like being believed.
And Elijah had failed at all three.
A soft knock interrupted the stillness.
I didn’t answer, but the door cracked open anyway.
Richard stepped in, holding a tray. “He made breakfast.”
I blin
