Aliana’s POV

I picked up my fork, twirling the food absentmindedly.

“Good,” I said simply.

Mercy laughed derisively, shaking her head.

“You phrase it as if it’s an achievement,” she said quietly.

I did not respond. Instead, I took a tiny piece of the chicken, savoring each chew. It was well-seasoned, yet I hardly experienced its flavor.

Since Freddy occupied all my thoughts.

How motionless he was.

How chilly his hand seemed in mine.

How I felt I was going crazy observing him in that way.

Mercy must have perceived my quietness because she set her fork aside and exhaled.

"Aliana," she whispered gently.

I gazed upward, encountering her inviting...