Chapter 29

The house was too bright. Every light had been turned on, as if illumination itself could keep the darkness at bay. Paper lanterns hung along the walls, their soft gold glow trembling slightly whenever someone passed beneath them. The scent of baked sugar and melted butter lingered in the air, warm and almost comforting—almost. Eighteen. The number sat heavy on Leona’s chest all day, like a stone placed there deliberately. Her aunt moved through the house with practiced efficiency, hands steady, voice calm, smiling at the right moments. Balloons were tied, the cake was iced, the table set with care so meticulous it bordered on reverence. Anyone watching would have thought this was devotion. Gratitude. Love. Leona watched her from the doorway more than once, an unease she couldn’t name crawling under her skin. “You should go get ready,” her aunt said without looking up, adjusting a ribbon. “Everyone will be here soon.” Leona nodded and did as she was told. Upstairs, she stared at her re