The first real snowfall since their return cloaked the Swiss estate in pristine silence. It was the kind of snowfall that seemed to muffle the world—making every breath feel sacred, every movement careful.
Ariella stood on the balcony outside the master suite, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her fingers curled around a steaming cup of tea. But the warmth didn't reach her.
Because something was changing again.
Not in the world.
But in her daughter.
It saddened her to know that if she loses this battle, Eleanor may never know what it feels like to live freely. She wanted so much for her daughter to live a normal life. To experience life at her own will and not have her life dictated by some group of people who assume the position of gods over people's lives.
Shifting Shadows
Eleanor had grown quieter. Not withdrawn—just… still. Observant. Her eyes didn't flicker around the room like they used to. They tracked. Studied. Calculated.
