C21 Game on

Zara’s POV

I woke to the kind of silence that felt intentional.

The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 12:17 in soft, accusing red. My phone had slipped from my hand sometime after the last right-swipe and now lay cold against my collarbone, screen black. The guest-room sheets were twisted around my legs. Somewhere downstairs the house had finished its evening rituals and gone still