Chapter 4 — First Impressions

Miranda

The muffled sound of voices drifted up the staircase, threading faintly through the cracks of Miranda’s barely closed door. She perched on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, the knit of the blanket draped over her legs soft against her pale knuckles. Her heart thudded steadily, louder than it should have been, crowding her thoughts.

They were all downstairs. The people she had only glimpsed in passing or overheard through the walls—the ones who shared this house that was supposed to be her refuge. Mason had said she didn’t need to rush, that this space was hers to take at her own pace. But knowing they were there, their presence lingering just beyond her door, felt like a pressure in the air, curling around her chest.