The high, vaulted ceilings of the old living room seemed to shrink, trapping the freezing air inside the dark stone mansion. The antique chandeliers cast long, twisted shadows across the dusty floorboards. Joveline stood tall and unyielding, her charcoal coat wrapped tightly around her frame like armor, her eyes staring down at her son with a hatred that felt older than the house itself.
Kaelan took a frantic step forward, completely abandoning his usual calm, assistant protocol. His heart was hammering against his ribs. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, his voice rising in a desperate plea.
