The mansion was quiet when I got home.

Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the heavy kind, the kind that made the air feel cold. Like even the walls didn't know how to comfort me anymore.

I stepped through the front door and kicked off my heels without bothering to line them up. My purse slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thud. I didn't care.

The lights were dim. My father hated leaving lights on when he wasn't using them. And since he was probably still at work again, the house felt more like a museum than a home.

Everything sparkled, the clean...