Two weeks had passed since Cassandra’s trial ended.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Rosemary could wake up without fear or dread pressing against her chest.

The morning air on her apartment balcony was cool and light. She sipped a cup of warm tea as the soft pastel sky stretched above her, the wind teasing loose strands of her hair.

> “It’s so peaceful this morning,”

she murmured to herself.

From the living room came a familiar, gentle voice.

> “You’ve said that every morning lately.”

Adrian stood there, dressed in a simple white shirt, his smile warm.

The gunshot wound in his chest had not fully...