"You are awake?" Ginevra called out, stepping into my bedroom.

I kept my hands steady, running the hairbrush through my hair in long, rhythmic strokes. The calm, repetitive motion was part of the ritual—a quiet moment to center myself before slipping back behind the mask.

"You look good with that style," Gin offered, walking over as I set the brush down on the dresser.

"Thank... you," I murmured awkwardly, keeping my posture slight and hesitant.

"Today is Friday, which means Mum and Dad won't be back until late tonight," she reminded me with a soft smile. "Be cool with Micah, okay? Even if she is a bit... prickly."

A small,...