Soren stepped through the doorway and immediately noticed the tension in the room. Poppy’s face was pale and drawn, while Macy stood in front of her with her head bowed, looking every bit like a child caught misbehaving.
The two of them were standing by the large aquarium in the living room. Inside, the fish looked sluggish and lethargic, and one striking red arowana floated belly-up, lifeless.
He remembered that Evangeline used to be especially fond of that particular fish.
Soren’s brow knit tightly. “What happened?”
At the sound of his voice, Macy flinched.
Poppy, too, froze for a second—she hadn’t expected Soren to come home at this hour.
She usually fed the fish now and then, but lately, her mood had been in shambles and she’d let things slide. When she finally checked the tank today, it was too late—one of the fish was already dead.
It could have been a trivial matter, or a serious one; she’d even considered using it to threaten Macy. But she hadn’t counted on Soren’s sudden return.
After a moment’s thought, Poppy tried to compose herself and said gently, “Soren, let me handle this—”
But Soren cut her off, his tone flat. “Go to your room. This doesn’t concern you.”
Poppy wanted to protest, but the look on Soren’s face—icy, with eyes as cold and dark as a winter storm—made her heart race with unease.
She didn’t dare linger and turned quickly to leave.
Once they were alone, Soren’s gaze settled coolly on Macy. “What’s something Evangeline always took care of?”
Macy knew there was no point in hiding it anymore. In a small, trembling voice she answered, “Feeding the fish.”
She darted a nervous glance at Soren and waved her hands in a rush. “But Miss Whitmore offered—she liked doing it herself. I never forced her.”
“Just feeding the fish?” Soren’s eyes flicked to the aquarium, where green algae clung to the glass and the remaining fish drifted sluggishly.

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