Julian stood in the doorway for a moment, cold and unreadable, before letting out a dry, sharp scoff.
"So you do remember the way home."
Without waiting for a reply, he strode across the room and sat down on the couch—right beside Cassidy, though still with a deliberate distance.
Cassidy said nothing. Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms. Her voice came out steady, but laced with anger.
"Why did she do it?" she asked, eyes fixed ahead. "Why did Mom feel the need to take such a… desperate step?"
Julian didn't answer.
His silence, once a symbol of control, now felt like a weapon. Cassidy turned her head slowly toward him, fury building in her chest.
Cassidy's voice trembled, but her words were sharp.
"Are you still the same?"
"Still cheating on her?"
"Still barking orders, picking at everything she did, like nothing was ever good enough?"
She laughed, bitterly, just once.
"God, I don't know why I'm even asking. Of course you are. You never stopped."
