CHRIS
I had always been the type to take charge, to handle things on my own. But ever since Valerie came into the picture, I couldn’t help but notice how she had this uncanny way of making everything easier. The project we were working on was no exception.
We were sitting at the dining table, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the pack house. The light bounced off the wooden floors, casting a warm glow across the room. The smell of fresh herbs from the garden outside drifted in, blending with the scent of paper, books, and the faint musk of freshly brewed coffee from the corner.
I glanced at Valerie, who was hunched over a notebook, flipping through pages with a concentration that only a few people in this world could muster. Evans, too, was working diligently, though he
