Lucy woke to pale sunlight streaming through the windows and the smell of fresh coffee. For a moment, she was disoriented. The ceiling was wrong, the bed too large. Then memory flooded back: the storm, William's fall, their conversation in the darkness.
She turned her head. William's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool to the touch. He'd been up for a while.
Lucy sat up, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Her phone showed it was just past seven. The storm had passed, leaving the city washed clean and glittering in the morning light. She could hear sounds from elsewhere in the mansion—staff moving about, life resuming its normal rhythms.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
She found William in his study, already dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, positioned b
