Chapter 166

• Ella’s POV
• As soon as Madam Yesenia stepped out the front door, the warm, familial energy that had filled the house began to fade, replaced by a quiet unease that settled over the living room like a heavy fog. I stood by the window, watching her retreating figure grow smaller in the dimming light. There was something haunting in the way her shoulders hunched, as if the weight of her niece’s disappearance had bent her spirit. My heart ached for her—her desperation, her fear, the quiet dignity with which she carried herself despite the chaos she must be feeling inside.
• I turned back to Marcel, who was standing near the mantelpiece, his jaw tight, fingers drumming rhythmically on the edge of the fireplace. His eyes, usually stormy but calm, looked troubled, distant—as if waging an internal war.