TAYLOR
I woke up that morning with a sense of foreboding. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. It should have been a peaceful morning, the kind where I could savor a few moments of solitude before the bustling day began. But today was different. I had an inkling that the calm was about to be shattered.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I reluctantly pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. I made my way to the bathroom, my steps deliberate yet heavy with the weight of what happened last night. As I stood before the mirror, I took a deep breath, determined to prepare myself for the breakfast that awaited.
The soft, filtered light of the bathroom mirror revealed the subtle tension in my features, the furrowed brow, and the contemplative gaze
