The Hawthorne estate glimmered with subtle signs of Christmas approaching—golden lights strung along the massive fir trees in the front yard, the faint aroma of cinnamon and pine drifting through the halls, and the muffled hum of carols playing somewhere in the kitchen. It was all beautiful, yet Scarlett couldn’t help feeling like something was missing.
Ethan had left early that morning. No explanation, no indication of when he would return—just a short, clipped conversation with Michael, followed by a curt goodbye to Scarlett. His departure lingered in her mind like an unfinished thought. The stillness of the estate felt heavier without his presence.
Scarlett had spent most of the day trying to distract herself. She trained in the gym, attempted to help the maids with the Christmas deco
