Lily’s POV

I stepped into the house with the recorder heavy in my pocket and a calm that no longer required effort. The air inside smelled faintly of the soup Mom was making. Her soft humming drifted from the kitchen, ordinary and unaware. I didn’t stop to greet her. I walked straight past the living room and climbed the stairs, each step measured, until I reached Mia’s door. I pushed it open without knocking.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed in an oversized shirt, phone in hand, scrolling with the same bored expression she always wore when she thought no one important was watching. The second her...