It was a suffocating, exhausting morning. Celia still hadn't received a single update regarding Phoebe's whereabouts. Her mind was practically unraveling from the stress, to the point where she was forced to notify Zara that Phoebe had officially fled the house. Now, trapped in her mounting anxiety, she found herself cornered by Julian, who was demands answers.
"What is the actual problem here, Celia? Why the hell would she go as far as running away from her own home?" Julian pressed, rubbing his temples in irritation. He could feel the heavy, unnatural discrepancy underlying the entire situation.
Across from him, Celia's internal panic intensified. She understood perfectly well why Julian was experiencing such deep confusion, yet she was bound by a terrifying silence. She couldn't offer an explanation. She had no way of predicting what Phoebe might do, or how violently her friend would react if she made the fatal mistake of leaking her carefully guarded secret to Julian.
