Noah's POV
The weight of everything that had transpired over the past few days sat heavy on my shoulders as I paced Liam's mansion, phone clutched in my hand. The dim glow of the chandelier cast long shadows across the marble floor, and the hum of distant conversation from the staff only made the silence in my head more deafening.
The media storm surrounding Liam and Diane had reached a fever pitch, and with every headline that flashed across my phone screen, my frustration deepened. I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to do something—anything—to help.
I hesitated before dialing Diane's number, my pulse quickening. This wasn't just concern—it was something deeper, something I had buried for years. As the phone rang, I told myself this was about being a friend, nothing more.
"Noah?" Diane's voice was barely above a whisper when she answered.
