April's pov
I sat curled up beside the bed, my cheeks damp with tears that I’d long given up trying to wipe away. The silence of the room was broken only when a soft knock echoed from the door.
Before I could respond, it creaked open, and a maid stepped inside, her presence gentle but intrusive in my fragile world.
“You have a letter, Mrs. Black,” she said softly, holding out a cream-colored envelope.
Mrs. Black.
That name pierced through me like a blade. It was a title that didn’t belong to me, and it never truly did. It was borrowed and forced, and every time someone spoke it, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything I had lost.
“You can leave it on the table,” I murmured without turning around, my eyes fixed on the rain-spattered window.
Outside, the storm raged on. Sheets of
