* Julliane *
That evening, I felt a warm flicker of contentment as Lance managed to come home early. It was a small, unexpected joy, the kind that settled in the chest and lingered, comforting like the last light of day through the stained glass windows in the hallway. It was rare for us to have these quiet, unhurried family dinners, the kind that felt almost like a forgotten luxury in a house too often filled with unspoken words and echoes of past conflicts.
Penny, the youngest in the family, was already seated at the long, polished mahogany table, her small frame dwarfed by the high-backed chair. Her legs swung gently beneath the table, toes barely brushing the floor, a silent reminder of her youth in this house of high expectations.
Her nanny sat beside her, carefully adjusting the
