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    Liam’s POV


    The morning was still gray when I opened my eyes. Sunlight hadn’t fully broken through the curtains yet, but the sound ofst night’s rain had been reced by a silence that felt oddly irritating. Beside me, Emily was still asleep, tucked under the nket up to her chin. Her face looked tired-probably from smiling and talking too much at the gst night. I gave her a brief nce, then got out of bed. I needed coffee.


    My feet led me out of the bedroom. The house was still quiet. But something lingered in the air.


    When I reached the dining room, my steps came to a sudden stop.


    The table was still full. Decorative candles had burned out. Serving tes were covered with domes. An array of


    dishes awaited-meant forst night’s dinner. My favorite roast. Sienna’s creamy soup that only appeared on


    special asions. Fresh sd with her homemade dressing. Even a chocte cake that looked untouched.


    I swallowed hard. There was a strange weight in my chest-an emptiness too wide to name.


    I slowly approached the table. I tilted my head, trying to recall-who was thest to stand here? Whostughed, or raised a ss, or simply spoke? But no memories came. Only vague shadows of a n that never


    happened.


    I let out a long breath. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor as I pulled it out seemed louder than it


    should’ve been.


    Sienna was so stubborn. She knew we had a packed schedule, yet she still insisted on that dinner. What for?


    I stared at the table with a frustration that was hard to put into words. She never knew her ce anymore-


    never realized she wasn’t that important. But that’s Sienna. Always quiet. Always keeping everything to herself,


    then expecting the rest of us to guess what’s in her heart.


    I didn’t end up making coffee. My stomach turned just looking at all that food. Not from hunger-but from a


    wave of guilt. Or maybe just the way she always made me feel guilty without saying a word.


    I walked into the hallway. My steps were slow, but they had a clear direction. Toward a room I had never really paid attention to. Sienna’s room. I stood before the door for a few seconds, then knocked three times. Soft, but


    loud enough to be heard.


    No answer.


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    I waited a moment, then knocked again. “Sienna?”


    Still nothing. No footsteps, no creak of the bed, no sound at all from inside.


    I let out a slow breath. Maybe she went to the market. She did that sometimes-getting up ridiculously early just to prepare something special for breakfast. Always keeping busy in the mornings. But for who? Me? Noah?


    I touched the doorknob, but didn’t turn it. I don’t know why-it just felt strange to go in. I’d always just stood


    here like this, just outside, never actually opening that door.


    So I turned away. My steps moved away from the room, like always-as if there was nothing important behind <ol><li> After all, if she had gone to the market, she’d be back soon. Wouldn’t she? </li></ol>


    But for some reason, this morning felt different. The silence was sharper. The dining table too full. And her


    room-too quiet.


    Still, I chose to ignore it. Like I always did.


    Tiny footsteps echoed from upstairs. I turned my head. Noah wasing down the stairs, his hair messy, eyes


    still half-lidded, but his pace quickened as he clutched a robot in his hand.


    “Daddy! Look, I got another robot, this one’s red!!” he eximed, holding it out proudly.


    “That’s nice, Noah,” I said quietly.


    His face lit up. “It’s from Auntie Emily, right? I wanted the red one but it was sold out.”


    I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure how to respond. My eyes were on the robot. Emily never mentioned finding


    the red one. And yet-there it was.


    “Maybe,” I murmured. “Maybe Auntie Emily bought it for you.” I said it, even though I wasn’t sure. Last night,


    I thought maybe Sienna had gotten it. But what Noah said… made sense too.


    “I’m hungry,” his small voice broke through my thoughts.


    I turned and saw Noah standing near the dining table, his gaze locked onto something.


    “That’s my favorite cake,” he said eagerly, pointing. “Can I have some, Daddy?”


    I nodded slowly. There was too much swirling in my head to say no to something so simple,


    “There’s no breakfast yet. Go ahead and have a slice,” I replied.


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    “I want the middle part-the one with the chocte chunks!” he said excitedly, climbing onto a chair and picking up a small stic knife that, oddly, was already set there, as if waiting for him.


    I just watched him. He looked happy. Innocent. Like everything was fine. But maybe that’s exactly what made


    me uneasy.


    Footsteps came from the staircase. Emily appeared, her hair tied up hastily, still in her satin nightdress. She opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, took a sip, then finally noticed the table-still full.


    “Why hasn’t this been cleaned up?” she muttered, half-questioning, halfining. Her eyes scanned the dishes, the burnt-out candles, thece tablecloth now slightly rumpled from Noah’s small hands as he enjoyed


    his cake.


    “No breakfast?” she asked, closing the fridge door a bit too hard.


    I took a slow breath before answering, “The maid went home yesterday morning. Said someone in her family


    was sick.”


    Emily nodded, but her face still held a trace of annoyance. “And Sienna? Where is she?”


    “Maybe the market,” I said tly, trying to sound convincing. “If she’s not in her room, that’s usually where


    she is.”


    Emily didn’t reply. She just nced at me briefly, then back at the table-this time with a faint look of confusion. Maybe she was starting to notice how excessive all that food really was. But I stayed quiet.


    Not interesting at all


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