Harold's POV
I carried Phoebe all the way back to the villa and up to the second-floor bedroom. "Babe, let me put you on the bed to rest for a while, okay?"
The entire trip, she hadn't spoken a word. No tears, no confusion—just this chilling emptiness that scared me more than any breakdown would have.
I wasn't imagining things.
Her face showed nothing. No emotion, no warmth. Just silence.
This wasn't like her at all.
Watching her like this made something twist painfully in my chest.
She gave a small nod, let go of my neck, and methodically removed her shoes and clothes before sliding under the covers.
I frowned. It was like looking at a complete stranger.
"Honey, I want to be alone," she said.
Every instinct told me not to leave her by herself right now.
But something in her eyes—that determined, distant look—made me nod anyway. "Alright, I'll talk to the two uncles first."
