Elara stepped through the grand doors of the Lyselle manor, the imposing architecture looming against the dark night. The tall pillars, dim lighting, and endless shadows made the place feel more like a haunted mansion than a family home. As much as she was used to visiting Amara here, tonight there was something unsettling in the air and it wasn't just the faint sound of the wind whistling through the marble halls.
Amara walked ahead of her, heels clicking on the polished floor, her posture stiff and almost mechanical. It was as if she were barely aware of Elara's presence, her gaze fixed ahead, lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn't said a word since they'd left Lyselle Media headquarters, not even the usual snide comments about her parents' taste in decor or a teasing jab at Elara's "nervous little expression."
"Amara?" Elara called softly, hoping to pull her out of whatever trance she seemed to be in.
