Victoria sat at the small kitchen table, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. The familiar smell of her mother’s homemade pastries wafted through the air, a comforting reminder of her childhood. Rita moved around the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared breakfast.

“Good morning, dear,” she said, her tone brightening as she caught sight of Victoria’s somber expression. “You look tired. Did you not sleep well?”

Victoria forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just a lot on my mind, Mom.”

Rita frowned, setting a plate of fresh croissants in front of her. “You know, you really should take better care of yourself....