THE INVITATION
The morning sun struggled to penetrate the heavy velvet curtains of the master suite, casting long, thin bars of light across the plush carpet-a reminder, as always, of the opulence that defined her life. Rose sat at her vanity, her fingers tracing the edge of a crystal perfume bottle. When the soft, rhythmic tap at the door sounded, she didn't turn. She knew the cadence of those footsteps. because Henry has been the one coming to the estate to inform her on what is required of her. "Come in, Henry."She said. Henry entered with his usual composure, stopping a respectful distance behind her. He didn't offer a preamble; he knew that in this house, clarity was the only currency that mattered. "There's an invitation to the Johnsons family gala, Madam," he said, his voice smooth. "Mr.
- Writer
