The sun was sinking behind the ridge, bleeding a bruised palette of purple and gold across the kitchen floor, when the house on the hill finally went quiet. It was a heavy, profound silence- the kind that only exists when the frantic energy of preparation finally runs out of road. This was it: the final sunset. In less than twelve hours, the pre-dawn alarm would shatter the air, signaling the end of their protected bubble and the beginning of months defined by distance. The empty house wasn't just a looming threat anymore; it felt like a living entity standing in the corner of the room, patient and still, waiting for the morning to claim the man who had built this sanctuary.
Briar stood at the stove, her movements slow, deliberate, and almost rhythmic. She wasn't baking for the masses t
