Chapter 6

The Thorne & Vance architectural firm occupied the entire fourteenth floor of a sleek, glass-paneled high-rise in the financial district. Julian and I had designed the office layout ourselves, prioritizing open spaces, natural light, and clean, minimalist lines. It was a monument to our s

Chapter 7

The scent of white lilies was supposed to be comforting, but to me, it smelled only of finality. It was heavy, cloying, and entirely inescapable within the vaulted stone walls of St. Jude’s.

I sat in the front pew, staring blankly at the polished mahogany casket resting at the altar. Th

Chapter 8

The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic metallic clicking of Julian assembling his toolkit.

I sat at the kitchen island, a cup of chamomile tea warming my hands, watching him systematically place his Allen wrenches and screwdrivers into the canvas bag. He was avoiding my eyes. He