Morning light washed over the grand gates of the Wraithbourne mansion, soft and golden, as if the house itself had decided to wake gently.
The doorbell rang.
Celina opened the door, her hair loosely tied, still carrying the quiet comfort of home rather than the sharp polish of the office. Her eyes widened just a little before curving into a smile.
"Miles?"
He stood there relaxed, hands in his pockets. "Celina? Not going to work today?"
She leaned against the doorframe. "I was. Then I heard a friend is visiting, so I stayed. After joining the office, it is not really every day that your friends come home."
Miles chuckled as he stepped inside.
The mansion felt alive again. Not loud, not busy. Just warm.
"Good morning Uncle Victor," Miles said as he entered the living room.
Victor sat on the couch, newspaper folded beside him, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked up and smiled. "Good morning young man. Have a seat."
