I stepped into the bedroom, the quiet of the space almost oppressive. The familiar walls, once comforting, now felt like a cage. I moved to the dresser, lifting the neatly folded clothes I had unpacked only days ago. My hands trembled as I refolded them, arranging them with mechanical precision. Each shirt, each dress, each carefully packed item seemed to echo Alexander’s words: distance, separation, safety.
I paused, staring out the window. The sun had risen higher now, painting the gardens below with a soft golden glow. Birds flitted across the sky, oblivious to the storm building within these walls. For a brief moment, I imagined myself walking away not just from the mansion, but from everything I had known, from Alexander, from the life that had been shared in flashes of warmth and te
