Nicholas
The silence that settled over Sutton Manor was not merely quiet. It was the suffocating, heavy stillness of a graveyard.
For two days, the grand halls returned to the cold, dead mausoleum I had curated after Isabella’s death. But this time, the darkness was far worse. Faith was gone, and she had taken every trace of light, warmth, and hope with her.
Upstairs, Noah sat in the center of his dark nursery floor, staring blankly at the wall. He hadn't touched a single bite of food since yesterday morning. He didn't cry. He didn't draw. He had locked his voice behind iron doors, retreating into the same catatonic state that had terrified me two years ago.
His final, desperate scream echoed in my ears every second of the day, tearing my soul to shreds: “Mommy!”
I sat at my mahogany
