The heavy silence that followed Marie's confession hung in the air like a thick, suffocating fog. The name Gillian seemed to echo off the limestone walls of the living room, a phantom presence that instantly rewrote our family's entire history.
Marcus was the first to break the paralysis, slamming his fist down onto the back of a leather armchair. "The driver... all those years, he sat in the front seat of our cars knowing he was harboring the nephew of a ghost. He took our secrets to his grave."
