The storm outside hadn't slowed. Rain drummed heavily against the Carter mansion's wide glass panes, streaking the view in silver lines. The sound was relentless, like the past pounding at the door, refusing to be ignored.
At the dining table, Samantha stirred her untouched tea slowly, her eyes fixed on the swirling liquid, though her mind was far away. The room was warm, lit by soft chandeliers that gave everything a golden glow, but inside her chest, the cold she had carried for seven years hadn't faded.
"Are you sure you'll be comfortable here tonight?" Nick asked suddenly, his voice low, almost hesitant. He had his elbows resting lightly on the table, his eyes searching hers.
Samantha lifted her gaze. Calm. Composed. A small smile curved her lips.
"I don't think your mother would forgive you if you sent a guest out into that storm, Nick."
Naomi chuckled from the other end of the table.
