Chapter 143 The Narrative

• The soft hum of the TV murmured in the background, cycling through morning news and entertainment headlines. The living room was wrapped in a sleepy quiet. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, spilling golden slats across the cream-colored rug.
• Zara sat curled at one end of the sectional, wrapped in a light throw, her hands cupping a warm mug of lemon tea. Her eyes were half-focused on the television, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
• Regan sat a few feet away, hunched over his phone, absently scrolling. His thumb hovered mid-swipe—then stopped.