Ariana stood in the quiet parlor of the academy's guest house, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she faced Livia's parents.
The room was modestly furnished, with soft candlelight flickering in the corner, casting warm shadows across the walls.
It was meant to be a comfortable space for visitors, but today, the air was thick with sorrow.
Mr. and Mrs. Calloway sat on a small loveseat, their hands intertwined, as though clinging to each other for support.
Their eyes were red and puffy from crying, and their expressions, though composed, were full of pain. They were simple folk—humble, gentle people from a rural town who had sent their beloved daughter to Ravenwood Academy in hopes of giving her a better future.
And now, they were leaving with nothing but grief.
Ariana swallowed hard, her throat tight, unsure of what words could possibly soothe the deep ache in their hearts.
