The sun rose slowly, like it, too, was reluctant to disturb the peace inside the Hale household.
Light filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling curtains, casting warm, honey-gold patterns along the floorboards and softening everything it touched—the walls, the quilt, the curve of Isabelle’s bare shoulder peeking from beneath the sheets. It was the kind of light that made everything feel gentler, as if the world itself had decided to pause and offer its quiet approval.
The silence in the room wasn’t the heavy kind. It wasn’t what it had been the night before. This silence was warm. Whole. The kind that follows vulnerability shared and accepted. The kind that holds a thousand unsaid promises.
Isabelle stirred first.
She didn’t open her eyes right away. Instead, she let her body register
