Echoes in the Light

The Holloway mansion stood as a bastion of opulence against the sprawling chaos of Everwood, its towering stone facade bathed in the golden hues of a late March sunrise. Inside, the dining room hummed with a quiet tension, the kind that settles into the bones like damp cold—unseen but inescapable. The long mahogany table gleamed under the chandelier's soft glow, its surface cluttered with fine china plates of half-eaten breakfast and crystal glasses catching the light in fractured prisms. The family sat in a loose semicircle, each lost in their own thoughts, the weight of yesterday's revelations pressing down like an uninvited guest.