The morning sun spilled through the villa’s curtains, soft and golden, but Jamila’s mood was anything but bright. She moved about the dining room with a stiff quietness, placing plates on the table without her usual smile. The boys chatted idly Dave cracking a joke, Jhan rolling his eyes but she barely listened.

Carl sat at the head of the table, his calm presence filling the room as always. Normally, Jamila’s gaze would linger on him, but today her eyes were cold and distant. She avoided him entirely, refusing even to glance in his direction.