Serena's breath hitched at Owen's words, her heart pounding in her chest. "What?" she whispered, unable to comprehend what he had just said. She searched his eyes for some sign of a joke, some hint that this was all a misunderstanding, but his expression was solemn and unyielding.
"You decorated this house, Serena," Owen repeated, his voice steady. "You chose every piece of furniture, every color on the walls, every little detail. This was supposed to be..."
Before he could continue, Serena stood up, as she started to walk around curiously. Her gaze swept across the room, taking in the delicate curtains, the cozy throw pillows, the artwork on the walls. Yet none of it sparked any recognition. In fact, this place did not even look like something she would like.