The transition from the jade green sanctuary of the master suite to the cold reality of a Monday morning was a violent shift in perspective. Briar woke before her alarm, her heart hammering against her ribs as she reached out to the empty half of the bed. The sheets were cold. The air was still. The scent of Victor- that intoxicating mix of cedar, spice, and the lingering heat of their final night; was already beginning the slow, inevitable process of evaporating into the high ceilings of the house.
She lay there for a long moment, staring at the dark green walls. She was still wearing his grey t-shirt, the fabric soft and smelling of the man who was now a series of coordinates on a map she wasn't allowed to see.
"Day one," she whispered. The words felt like a lead weight in the cente
