The morning light streamed through the curtains of Charlotte’s bedroom, but it brought no comfort. She had spent the entire night pacing, her mind caught in an endless loop of questions and fears. The weight of Aiden’s words—and the unyielding resolve in her father’s eyes—pressed heavily on her chest.
She had called her best friend, Emma, in a desperate bid for clarity. Now, the two of them sat cross-legged on Charlotte’s bed, coffee mugs in hand. Emma’s dark eyebrows knitted together as she processed the story.
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