AMELIA

The sweet, mouthwatering aroma of freshly cooked food gently wakes me from my sleep. My eyes flutter open, blinking against the light in the room as I slowly sit up, stretching my sleep-stiffened muscles with a contented sigh.

A smile tugs at my lips as Beatrice bustles into the room, a laden food tray balanced expertly in her hands. An intoxicating aroma instantly wafts toward me—the unmistakable rich, creamy fragrance of her famous shrimp pasta, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.

"Thank you," I murmur as she sets the tray down on my lap with a flourish.

Beatrice returns my smile, her warm eyes crinkling at the corners as...