The guest wing of the Cahallan mansion lay shrouded in an unnatural hush.
Vivienne paced the length of her bedroom like a caged predator.
Each turn was sharper than the last, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she could physically hold herself together.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that refused to slow. Fear crawled beneath her skin, cold and insistent, twisting deeper with every passing minute.
Scarlett lounged on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone with forced nonchalance. But her jaw was tight, her fingers tapping too quickly. After nearly ten minutes of watching Vivienne’s relentless pacing, she finally groaned and tossed the phone aside.
“Either sit the hell down or keep going until you wear a hole straight throu
