Lydia's POV The freezing cold didn’t just hurt; it invaded your body like a living thing, biting into your bones with jagged teeth of ice. Every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass, and every heartbeat seemed slower than the last, struggling against the relentless cold.I couldn't stop shaking.My hands were shoved inside cheap plastic trash bags in a pathetic attempt to preserve warmth, but they were so stiff and numb that I couldn't even curl my fingers anymore. The skin beneath the plastic had turned an unhealthy bluish-white, and sharp needles of pain shot through my hands whenever I tried to move them.In the corner of my grandfather's dark, ruined study, my mother was completely unrecognizable.The elegant, high-society woman who once spent hours criticizing servants, attending charity galas, and shopping for imported jewelry now looked like a homeless stranger abandoned by the world. She was wrapped in several ancient, moth-
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