The following morning, Sienna woke up feeling like the night had been an endless blur of grief and hopelessness. Her eyes were swollen from all the crying, but somehow, the exhaustion she felt last night had left her. There was no peace in her heart, though—just an overwhelming heaviness that clung to her like a shadow. The house felt colder now, emptier without her grandfather’s presence.
She freshened up quickly, the routine of getting ready acting as a numb distraction from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed her. When she stepped into the dining hall, the atmosphere felt heavy, the silence thick with unspoken words. Everyone was already seated, their faces marked by the same sorrow that weighed down on her chest.
"Good morning, everyone," she said softly, trying to muster the energy to sound as normal as possible. The response she received was a chorus of murmurs: “Morning.”