Azrael didn't come home the following week.
At first, Valerie noticed.
The first day, she kept checking the time without meaning to. The second day, she stopped pretending she wasn't checking. By the third, she simply glanced at the empty seat in the house once and moved on.
By the fourth day, she shrugged it off completely.
If he was that pissed he didn't want to come back, then fine. It wasn't like she had the energy to chase after him or figure out what was going on in that overcomplicated head of his.
Only then did it hit her—strangely, almost lazily—that this was probably how he always intended it.
He hadn't really brought her here like a guest.
He'd placed her here like something ornamental. Like pretty furniture in a house he occasionally wanted to look at… and then forget existed when he didn't feel like dealing with it.
And the worst part was—
He seemed completely fine doing it.
Valerie exhaled through her nose, a quiet scoff escaping her as she moved on with her day.
The house, however, didn't feel empty.
It filled up quickly.
Boxes arrived. Staff moved quietly through corridors. Her uncle helped coordinate things without much fuss, Aunt Valentina fussed over meals, and Aunt Eleanor kept appearing in places like she was silently monitoring everything without saying a word.
Little Roe, of course, treated the entire place like it had been built for him personally.
That first week passed in a blur of settling in.
Valerie barely noticed the days slipping by.
She had other things to focus on.
Aunt Valentina helped her set up a studio room overlooking the garden. Large windows. Soft natural light. Enough space for her to breathe again.
It was the first place in the house that felt like it belonged to her.
Right now, she sat inside it.
In front of her latest piece.
Her hands were stained—plaster stuck under her nails, paint smudged across her fingers—but she wasn't even looking at that.
She was looking at the work.
And still— It didn't feel right.
The sculpture stood in front of her. A woman frozen mid-scream.
Her mouth open in silent agony, body twisted in a way that looked almost too real.
The title carved beneath it read: The Happiest.
Valerie stared at it and the sculpture stared back.
Or maybe it was just her imagination again, but it felt like it did.
Her jaw tightened faintly.
"…No," she muttered under her breath.
She pulled off her gloves abruptly and leaned back in her chair, frustration settling in her chest in a slow, heavy wave.
Her focus was completely fractured
She couldn't tell when it started slipping, but it had been happening all week. Every time she tried to work, her thoughts drifted.
Should she call him? Roe has been asking him…
She grabbed her phone without thinking and scrolled absently, trying to clear her head.
Her eyes widened slightly. Forty-plus missed calls from Regina.
"…Oh," Valerie clicked her tongue.
Regina had gone on a month-long religious retreat. She was supposed to be back—
Yesterday.
Valerie straightened immediately.
"Right… I forgot," she said to herself, already unlocking her phone properly.
Without wasting another second, she pressed call.
…
Midnight settled over the city in a lazy, glowing haze.
Regina was starving.
Not the poetic kind of starving either—the dramatic, deeply personal kind where a woman who just came back from a month-long religious retreat suddenly craves instant noodles like it's a divine calling.
There was just one problem.
No vegetables at home.
She stood in her kitchen for a full five seconds, staring into the fridge like it had personally betrayed her.
Then she sighed.
"Of course," she muttered.
Ten minutes later, she was outside.
A long coat thrown over her night slip, hair loosely tied, and eyes narrowed like she was about to commit a mildly questionable crime. Her footwear situation was even more chaotic—she glanced between flimsy flip-flops, elegant red-bottom heels sitting near the door, and then—smiling to herself—picked up the six-inch heels instead.
"Better," she decided.
Because obviously, grocery shopping at midnight required confidence.
And drama.
The street was almost empty when she reached the small convenience store nearby. She grabbed vegetables, a few drinks, and a bag of noodles like her life depended on it, then made her way back out, balancing the bags like she had done this a hundred times in a hundred different lives.
She was about to cross the road when her phone rang.
Regina glanced at the screen and smirked.
"Look who it is," she murmured. "Vixen of the year."
She swiped it open.
On the other end, Valerie's voice came through almost immediately. "When did you get back?"
Regina scoffed. "Finally called me back, bitch? I came back yesterday but had to help the nun sisters with stuff, so I only got home just now—"
She stepped onto the road.
It was empty.
Too empty.
A soft hum of wind.
Then—
A roar.
A sports car came out of nowhere, headlights slicing through the night as it sped down the road like it had no intention of stopping for anything in this world.
Regina's head snapped up.
"…Motherfu—"
The words barely left her mouth before—
"SKREEE—!"
Impact.
She fell hard onto the road, her long coat flipping slightly with the motion, giving a very unfortunate angle of dignity betrayal to whoever was unfortunate enough to be watching from the windshield.
Silence.
Then a strained breath.
"…I'm fine," she muttered, lying through her teeth as she slowly pushed herself up. "I'm absolutely—"
Her gaze lifted.
The driver's face was visible through the windshield chuckled.
Annoyingly handsome.
Regina blinked once.
Then a slow, offended smile crawled onto her face.
"You blind bloody bastard…!" she snapped.
Without hesitation, she yanked off one of her heels and hurled it straight at the windshield.
"THUNK!"
Glass didn't break—but the message was clear.
"HEY—!" the man shouted, slamming the brakes.
Regina was already running.
Her six-inch heels clicked aggressively against the road as she sprinted like a woman possessed, coat flying behind her.
She didn't even bother looking back fully—just twisted her head mid-run and shouted at him, voice sharp and unbothered.
"THE LORD IS FAIR, GAVE YOU THAT BRAIN WITH THAT FACE!"
And then she disappeared into her block like a ghost on caffeine.