POV: Siena Blake

There’s a kind of silence that comes after hope dies. A silence so absolute, it presses on your chest like a second heartbeat—louder than your thoughts, heavier than grief.

That was all I heard as I sat in the corner of my apartment—knees tucked to my chest, arms wrapped tight around myself like I could keep the world out just a little longer. It was nearly midnight, and I hadn’t moved in hours. The city outside felt distant, like it existed in another timeline where people still had lives that made sense.

Tomorrow was my father’s court date.

And I had nothing.

No lawyer. No admissible evidence....