The ride back home from the morgue was silent—so silent, it was deafening. Not a word passed between Hailey and Killian, but the heaviness that clung to the air spoke volumes. Hailey sat motionless, her gaze vacant, her lips parted as if caught mid-thought but unable to speak. Killian knew better than to break the silence. Her world had shattered within hours—what words could possibly soothe that?
When they stepped into the mansion, a brutal irony awaited them.
Purple balloons floated lazily in the air. Ribbons streamed from the ceiling, twisting in the light. A giant "Happy Birthday Aiden!" banner still hung proudly above the fireplace, oblivious to the cruel turn the day had taken.
Killian sucked in a sharp breath and cursed under his breath.
'Damn it, I should've told Christopher to take it all down,' he thought to himself.
