Chapter 112 Whispers Behind The Applause

• The room was dim, lit only by the faint orange glow of the bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn shut, casting soft shadows across the cream walls and giving the space a cocoon-like stillness. Unpacked luggage lay near the closet—still zipped, but half-unfolded, like they were meant more to be seen than truly used.
• Imani stood near the vanity, barefoot, one hand twisting a ring around her finger, the other holding her phone close to her ear. She wore a silk nightdress, her hair loosely pinned up, revealing her slender neck and a calm that bordered on eerie.
• The call connected.