The afternoon sun was bright, casting a golden glow over the front yard of Anabelle’s mansion.
The air smelled of freshly cut grass, and the fountain near the gate made a gentle, calming sound. Inside the house, Anabelle was arranging flowers in a tall glass vase, humming softly to herself.
Her morning had been peaceful, filled with work calls, a light lunch, and laughter from the small group of students she mentored part-time.
She stood back to admire her work, smiling faintly. The lilies looked perfect against the white marble table. Everything felt calm—until the doorbell rang.
It was a firm, continuous sound.
Anabelle frowned slightly. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Jude was out of town, Fred had texted earlier saying he was working late, and no deliveries were scheduled. She wipe
