IMOGEN'S POV
I followed Alex, the driver, into the Rossi house, my heart heavy with each step. The grand entryway opened up before me, and suddenly I was drowning in memories.
The giant living room loomed to my right, and I could almost hear the echo of Elijah's laughter bouncing off the high ceilings. How many nights had we spent curled up on that oversized leather couch, planning our future? I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep moving.
We passed the library, and the scent of old books and polished wood hit me like a physical force. I remembered countless afternoons spent there, Elijah reading aloud from his favorite novels while I sketched, the sunlight streaming through the tall windows and painting everything in a warm, golden glow. Now, the room felt cold and empty.
