Morning sunlight spilled softly across the quiet countryside surrounding Maureen Green’s mother’s house.
For the first time in weeks, the morning felt peaceful.
No nightmares.
No emergency calls.
No terrifying threats.
Just silence.
The kind of silence she used to crave when she still worked inside Rodriguez Corporation.
Maureen stood in the kitchen wearing an oversized sweater while making coffee slowly. The windows remained slightly open, allowing cool wind to drift through the house.
The small home still carried traces of her mother everywhere.
The old clock hanging above the dining table.
The faded curtains.
The tiny flower pots placed carefully near the windows.
Some mornings, the memories hurt too much.
Other mornings, they felt comforting.
Today felt somewhere in betwe
