The first morning Mrs. Blackwood arrived far too quickly.
Soft rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing Elara's bedroom in a warm golden glow. The room was silent except for the gentle singing of birds from the gardens below.
For a few peaceful moments, she forgot where she was.
She stretched lazily before opening her eyes.
The elegant crystal chandelier above her came into view.
The luxurious silk bedding.
The spacious room.
Then her gaze fell upon the platinum wedding band resting on her finger.
Reality returned.
She was no longer Elara Quinn, the receptionist who rushed through crowded buses every morning.
She was now Mrs. Elara Blackwood.
A title that still felt borrowed.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Mrs. Blackwood?"
Mrs. Hayes' warm voice
