The kitchen was nothing like I expected it to be.
It was not grand in the obvious sense, and it was not cold or overtly designed to impress. What defined it was its pallor, a restrained elegance that seemed uninterested in admiration. The cabinetry was finished in the softest shade of gray, hovering somewhere between silver and pearl, seamless and matte so that light was absorbed rather than reflected. There were no handles interrupting the surfaces. Every drawer and cabinet opened with a press, smooth and silent, as if the room itself rejected unnecessary sound. White marble counters veined faintly with ash gray ran uninterrupted along the walls, immaculate and cool, their perfection more deliberate than inviting.
At the center island sat a vase of fresh flowers arranged with careful re
