Lydia's Point Of View
I pulled into the driveway, but for the first time in weeks, my hands weren't glued to the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip of pure terror. The engine ticked as it cooled, a gentle sound that seemed to echo the settling of my own nerves. As I stood on the porch and unlocked the front door, a genuine, completely unforced smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
I was thinking about Seraphina.
Our last conversation kept playing on a loop in my head, echoing in the quiet spaces of my mind. God, I had been so awful to her. Ever since we were kids, I had treated her like an adversary, throwing bitter barbs and building walls out of pure pride and insecurity. I had been cruel, cold, and relentlessly unyielding.
