The morning sun filtered through the sheer, embroidered curtains of Marissa's private sitting room, bathing the space in a warm, golden light that felt almost celebratory. The air smelled of freshly brewed jasmine tea and sweet pastries.
Marissa sat by the window, a delicate porcelain cup in her hand. She took a slow, deliberate sip, letting the warmth spread through her chest. A small, satisfied smile played on her lips. She looked out at the garden, where the flowers were growing, indifferent to the chaos inside the house.
Lily stood beside the table, refilling the teapot with hot water. She was beaming, her eyes shining with admiration. She set the pot down with a soft clink.
