Seraphina's Point Of View
I stood in the center of my room, the air conditioning's steady hum the only anchor keeping me grounded as thoughts swirled through my mind like a Texas dust storm. The weekend stretched before me… supposedly a time for rest, but rest had become a foreign concept in a house currently occupied by a Silvestro.
My mother was in the guest room with Charles, and honestly? The air in the hallway practically sizzled every time I walked past. An energy crackled there, something electric and youthful that felt both wonderful and deeply uncomfortable to witness.
It reminded me of high school hallways, of stolen glances and secret notes,,, things I'd never imagined associating with my own mother.
Damn it, I thought, staring at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. I really need to start calling him Dad.
