Days drag by like years in this mansion, and the ice between Anton and me only grows thicker. The afternoon sun streams through the tall windows, casting long shadows in the hallway as I make my way to his study. I need to ask him about getting a phone to call Chloe. God, I miss her. She was the sunshine in our pack, the only one who took the time to learn sign language when I first lost my voice. While others whispered and stared, she'd sit with me for hours, her fingers fumbling through signs until we could talk about everything and nothing.
The heavy wooden door to Anton's study looms before me, intimidating in its grandeur. Through the crack beneath, I can see warm lamplight spilling out – he's working from home today. My heart pounds against my ribs as I knock softly.
The scent of coffee and old books wraps around me as I enter. Anton sits behind his massive mahogany desk, his broad shoulders hunched over stacks of papers. His dark hair falls across his forehead, and his crisp wh
