MARGARET’S POV
The drive home passed by in a haze, but I hardly noticed the route. Each turn slipped by unnoticed, my mind caught somewhere else entirely.
Finally, the Lockwood Manor loomed before me—our home. Except it didn’t feel like a home. It hadn’t in months.
Not since Edward’s laughter no longer echoed through the halls, not since Ethan buried himself in pack duties and found his comfort in the arms of his mate.
Not since Celeste returned to our lives—just to move in with Kieran almost immediately.
What remained was silence. The kind that pressed on the chest like a weight, the kind that made the clink of a spoon against porcelain sound deafening.
I sat in the entryway for a long time, staring at Edward’s coat still hanging on the rack. We’d been about to go out; he was halfway through tugging it on when the call of the attack came through.
In his haste, he’d shrugged it off and tossed it aside.
