The penthouse, once alive with the chatter and laughter of the twins, now stood quiet and dark. As Lydia sat lost in her thoughts in the dimly lit living room, the sound of the door opening broke the heavy silence. She remained still, her gaze still fixed on the city lights outside, as Milo stepped into the penthouse. Oblivious to his mother's presence, he walked straight toward the kitchen, his movements sluggish and unsteady. The bright kitchen lights flickered on, casting harsh shadows that contrasted sharply with the muted ambiance of the living room.
Milo filled a glass with water, taking a long sip before turning around. The sudden sight of his mother sitting in the darkness startled him, causing him to nearly drop the glass. "Mom?" he called out, his voice tinged with surprise. "Why are you up so late?"
