Chapter 102: The Calm Before the Storm

The morning sun filters through the large bay windows, casting a golden glow over the polished hardwood floor of the living room. 

I sit on the couch, a lukewarm teacup in my hands, but I don't drink. My fingers tighten slightly around the porcelain as my gaze drifts across the vast garden. 

Everything seems peaceful. 

Léo runs across the grass, his little feet pounding the ground with boundless energy, under Mila's watchful eye. I glance at her from the corner of my eye, a soft smile tugging at my lips. 

She stands tall, steady. Finally healed. 

After weeks of recovery, Mila has regained her strength. Her wound is now just a painful memory, a scar hidden beneath her clothes, but I know she carries others, invisible ones. 

She never speaks of that night on the boat. 

She never speaks of Lorenzo, of his blood on her hands, of the stench of death that had filled the room. 

But she's here.