The next day, the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft streaks of light across the living room. Elena was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, lost in her thoughts. The quiet peace of the house was comforting, a rare reprieve from the emotional storm she had been navigating.
That peace was shattered by the sharp sound of footsteps approaching. She looked up just as Adam entered the room, his face tight with an intensity she hadn’t seen before.
“Elena,” he began, his voice clipped. “We need to talk.”
Her stomach sank. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. “What is it, Adam?” she asked cautiously, setting her coffee cup down on the table.
“I heard you last night,” he said bluntly, folding his arms across his chest. “You and your mother. About your husba
