The house had finally quieted.
The last of the guests had trickled out hours ago, their laughter fading down the driveway like the final notes of a fading song. The twins were fast asleep, curled up in matching pajamas under twinkling fairy lights in their shared room, their breathing soft and even.
Downstairs, the living room flickered with a warm, golden glow — tree lights dancing gently against the window glass. Soft instrumental jazz hummed beneath the hush of the space.
The household staff moved efficiently but quietly in the background — gathering plates, blowing out candles, folding throw blankets over the arms of chairs. Trained, respectful. Invisible when they needed to be.
Isabelle stood alone by the tall window, one hand wrapped around the stem of a half-finished glass of re
