Kyle stepped into deathly silence.

Lucy’s house felt hollow.

The once warm home now looked abandoned, almost desecrated. Family photos that had once brightened the living room hung crooked, their glass frames smeared with dust, as though no one had cared to touch them in days. A vase that used to hold fresh lilies stood bone-dry on the console table, its surface cracked and pale from neglect. The curtains drooped heavy and sad, blotting out what little light tried to seep through the windows, leaving the rooms dim and airless.

It was funny how Kyle hadn't noticed these things before.

The front door hung ajar, swaying faintly on its hinges,...