The next morning dawned with a soft, grey mist blanketing the mansion grounds, giving the world a muted, almost ethereal quality. Lilith awoke early, her mind still racing from the revelations of the previous night.
She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in her chest—Don was not who he seemed, and now she knew he was looking for her. For what purpose, she still wasn't certain, but the weight of it pressed heavily on her heart.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to find a moment of peace, but instead, she found Amon already awake, sitting at the long wooden table with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. His face was drawn with worry, his brow furrowed in thought.
He looked up as she entered, and for a moment, the seriousness in his eyes softened.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked gently, setting the cup down.
Lilith shook her head and sat across from him, pulling her knees up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.
