A call that destroys peace
When the phone rang, the countryside did not react.
The birds outside continued their soft, careless chatter. The breeze still slid through the open windows, lifting the curtains as though nothing in the world had shifted. Sunlight lay gently across the wooden floor, warm and unhurried, the kind of morning that made time feel negotiable.
Yet the sound of the phone was sharp—violent, even. It cut through the fragile stillness like glass shattering in slow motion.
Emilia froze.
She stood halfway between the counter and the table, her coffee cup hovering uselessly in her hand. The warmth that had comforted her seconds earlier now felt irrelevant, almost mocking. For a moment, she thought of letting it ring. Pretending it wasn’t real. Pretending this quiet life
