The late afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the hallway tiles as Claire stepped back into the Yu estate, her heart still humming with the warmth of reuniting with her mother. It gave her peace she didn't know she needed. Her fingers brushed over the velvet wallpaper as she strolled inside, a soft smile blooming on her lips—until a deep, echoing laughter rippled through the hallway. It stopped her cold.
That voice—it wasn't just familiar. It was haunting. Rich, deep, and lined with pride. It was the voice that used to tell her how much he loved her, the voice that once laughed and played with her, that turned to call her a disappointment. The voice that never defended her. The voice she once yearned to earn affection from.
Shawn Ming.
Her father.
Claire halted behind the decorative pillar, her heart thudding as a wave of memories crashed over her. Laughter followed—a tinkling, sugary tone that always struck her as too polished to be sincere. Her stepmother. Jamille.
