It was hushed, tense. “No, I’ll meet you later,” she whispered, her words barely audible but enough to stop John in his tracks. There was something off, something in her tone that made him stop.
John was not used to this. The house felt different, almost alien, as if it had transformed while he remained in the dark. The light that flooded the windows felt like a distant memory, a brightness he could only recall in fragmented thoughts.