The morning sun filtered through the blinds of the Thomas household, casting long, striped shadows across the kitchen tiles. Mia Thomas, forty and radiating a glow of newfound happiness, hummed a soft tune as she packed her briefcase. She moved with a lightness that had been absent for years, her heels clicking a rhythmic beat against the linoleum. She looked over at Zach Scott, who leaned against the granite counter, sipping black coffee. He was thirty-five, with the lean, hard muscle of an athlete and a smile that Mia found irresistible. It was a dazzling, white-toothed expression, though it never quite reached his eyes when he looked at her daughter.

Natalia sat at the small breakfast table, her shoulders hunched forward, staring intently at a bowl of soggy cereal. At fourteen, she had grown thin and withdrawn, her frame swallowed by an oversized grey hoodie. Since her father’s death three years ago, a void had opened in her life that no amount of maternal affection could bridge. Mia had tried, but eventually, Mia had looked for a different kind of support, and she had found Zach.