Aurora’s P.O.V

    After dinner, Lucas ushered all of us into a room filled with toys, his voice calm but firm. Go on, bond with each other. I’lle back when it’s bedtime,” he said, offering a reassuring smile before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

    The moment the doortched, Ashton moved toward me with quiet urgency, his gaze sharp and warning. ‘Be careful with what you say,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Even the walls have ears.”

    My breath hitched. So they were listening. I had suspected it, but hearing Ashton confirm it sent a wave of unease through me. If they were monitoring everything, how could we speak freely? How could Imunicate without risking exposure? My mind raced for a solution, but nothing came fast enough.

    Just then, Violet stepped closer, her small fingers brushing against my hand. Her touch was feather light, but her words were heavy with meaning. “What they say is the opposite of what they mean,” she whispered, her voice so soft I almost missed it.

    1 stiffened. That meant… that meant every interaction, every instruction, every seemingly kind or neutral word could be a lie. A game. A trick designed to manipte us. My eyes met hers, searching for confirmation, and she gave a barely perceptible nod.

    My heart pounded. How long had they been trapped in this twisted game? How long had they been forced to pretend? The realization settled like a weight on my chest, pressing down with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. I needed to figure out a way to navigate this-fast.

    Taking a steadying breath, I nodded once, a silent promise that I understood. If words couldn’t be trusted, then I had to learn to read between the lines. And if that was the game they wanted to y, then I was ready to y it too.

    I nod, pretending to understand, but honestly, I don’t. Not at first. Maggie’s words sound simple enough-she says she really loves being here with her family. There’s nothing strange about that, right? But then I catch the way her eyes flicker, how her fingers press together a little too tightly. It hits me like a dyed echo.

    She means the exact opposite. She hates being here. She misses her real family. This is just the way we talk now, isn’t it? Twisting words into something they’re not, because saying the truth out loud might break us.

    I swallow, my throat dry. “Is your mother here too?” I ask, my voice careful, almost hesitant.

    Ashton looks at me like I’ve just asked if the sky is blue. ‘Of course,” he says with a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “She lives with us. We’re a happy family.”

    And there it is. The shift. The moment it all clicks into ce. The realization ms into me so fast that I feel almost dizzy. They’re in the same situation as me, aren’t they? Their mother is dead too. Just like mine. And just like me, they’re ying along, speaking in riddles, pretending that everything is fine when it’s anything but.

    I don’t say anything. I don’t have to. The weight of it settles between us, heavy and unspoken.

    I leaned forward, my voice light with curiosity, but I had to find the truth. ‘Do…your moms…ever read you stories at night?”

    Silence. An eerie, weighty silence.

    They all looked at each other, their expressions shifting-haunted, hollow, something deeper lurking beneath their eyes. I felt the shift in the air before they even spoke

    Our other art like reading stories, one of them finally muttered, Avery, her voice t, emotionless.

    “But Duddy does, another added, small, almost faced smile tugging at their lips. Daddy reads to us every night”

    imed by My Bully Alpha