News from the front

The early morning sun had barely begun to paint the sky with hues of orange and pink when Killian's phone rang, jolting us awake from the cozy cocoon of our shared dreams. As he answered the call, the urgency in his voice mirrored the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

"Richard," Killian called out, glancing at me with a furrowed brow. "Duty calls. Dad needs me. Get ready, Mellisa."

I groggily got out of bed, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Richard, Killian's loyal beta and confidant, stood by the door ready for whatever lay ahead.

There was a weight to the air, a heaviness that hung like a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

We made our way to the family meeting, a place I had only heard about in hushed conversations and somber tones. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine.

We entered the room, the dark wood-panelled walls seemed to close in on us. At the center, George Anderson, the patriarch, stood.

"Killian," George's voice trembled as he spoke, "sit down. We