RONAN' S POV
The aroma of something simmering on the stove greeted me as I stepped into the family house. The sound of soft humming drifted from the kitchen, and there was Sophie, standing over the pot, stirring with deliberate precision. Her mood was oddly cheerful, considering the circumstances. Dad was in the hospital, fighting for his life, and here she was, humming as though it were any other day.
"Dad is awake," I announced, leaning casually against the doorframe, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.
The spatula slipped from her fingers, clattering against the edge of the pot as she spun around, startled. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of unease crossing her face before she quickly masked it.
"How?" she blurted, her voice pitched with a mix of surprise and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.
Her question caught me off guard. I frowned, studying her carefully.