POV: Siena Blake

The sunlight in the room had changed. It wasn’t harsh or blinding anymore. Instead, it felt gentle and warm, like soft fingers brushing against my skin. It poured in through the wide, clean windows, casting long lines across the marble floor and bathing the space in a golden glow. It reminded me of something quiet and hopeful—like the way morning light sometimes promises peace after a long, restless night.

The house felt different that afternoon. It wasn’t loud or chaotic, but it was alive. There were sounds and movements coming from different corners of the house, but none of them felt tense or sharp. The tight feeling...