Chapter 12
The next morning broke clear and bright. The heavy coastal storm had blown inland during the night, leaving behind a washed world sparkling under a brilliant autumn sun. Golden sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, casting long, warm beams across the white-tiled backsplash and the quartz counter.
Clara stood by the stove, humming softly to herself as she flipped a pair of golden pancakes in a cast-iron skillet. The kitchen smelled of vanilla, butter, and freshly brewed coffee—the classic, comforting aromas of a Sunday morning, even though it was only a Tuesday.
The sound of soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, and a moment later, Elena entered the kitchen. She wore a comfortable cream-colored sweater over her dark trousers, her dark hair pulled back into a simple clip. The tight, defensive posture that had defined her movements for years was entirely gone; she walked with a relaxed, natural grace.
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"Morning," Elena said, smiling as she walked over to the island and pic
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