Brianna’s POV
The pale morning light spills across the room in long, golden stripes, catching on the edge of the curtains and the polished brass of the bed frame. For a moment, I lie still, listening to the distant hum of activity somewhere in the house, the muffled clatter of suitcases being moved, low voices calling instructions, the faint growl of an engine in the driveway. The trip is already in motion, whether I am ready or not.
I swing my legs out of bed, the marble floor cool under my bare feet, and stretch the stiffness from my shoulders. A glance at the clock tells me we have less than two hours before departure. I pad toward the bathroom, letting the hot spray of the shower wash away the last traces of sleep. By the time I step out, steam curling around me, I have already chose
