(Lara POV)
The first thing Lara noticed was the silence.
Not the quiet of peace — but the kind that bloomed when her room had nothing left to distract her from her own thoughts.
Her bedroom, as always, was immaculate. Floor-to-ceiling windows filtered soft twilight over silk curtains the shade of champagne blush. The vanity lights glowed faintly against marble surfaces. Everything was carefully curated, expensive, flawlessly feminine — a reflection of a life people assumed she navigated with effortless perfection.
But tonight, she sat on the edge of her bed, phone resting on her thigh, eyes fixed on one name in the Inner 9 chat thread.
Vince.
She exhaled through her nose.
What was he thinking?
Or more accurately… what was she thinking?
The group chat had already settled into its usual low hum after he announced Friday's bowling-and-drinks plan, yet his name lingered in her mind long after the notifications stopped.
