The Moreau family mansion.
That was where tonight's chapter starts, not with me, not with my apartment, not with school. No. This time it was her house. Her family. Her life.
Upstairs, Celestia had stormed into her room earlier, Duchess curling in her lap as she sat on the edge of her bed. She petted her, slow and quiet, and Duchess—loyal as ever—purred until she finally drifted off asleep in Celestia's arms. But Celestia hadn't slept. Not even close.
By the time she heard the faint clink of plates downstairs, her chest still felt tight. Dinner. She couldn't skip it, not without hearing about it later. So she slid out of bed, careful not to wake the cat, and padded down the long hallway.
The dining room was as polished as always—too polished. The chandelier lit the table in a soft glow, but it only made the empty spaces feel emptier. Lucien's chair was untouched, his place setting perfectly in order. Of course. He was never home.
It was just her and her parents this time.
