The aroma of roasted rosemary chicken and freshly baked bread filled the warm air of the dining room. Golden light from the chandelier above softened the edges of everything it touched—the polished mahogany table, the delicate white porcelain plates, the silver cutlery, even the fine lines on her parents' weary faces. Sophia descended the stairs slowly, her fingers brushing the banister for support, not because she was tired but because the weight in her chest felt too heavy to bear. Her socks made the faintest sound against the hardwood floor, but even that seemed deafening in the thick, emotional silence that clung to her.