The sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows did little to lift the heaviness in my chest as I made my way down the quiet hallway.
My steps were slow, deliberate, each one a reminder of the strange, fragile balance I had to maintain in this house.
Last night's argument with Bruno still lingered in my mind, but it was my earlier words with Rosa that gnawed at me now.
She'd only tried to be kind, to understand, and I'd shut her down with my own bitterness.
I reached the kitchen door and paused, gathering my thoughts.
Apologizing wasn't something I was accustomed to, but Rosa had been nothing but good to me since she arrived.
It was only fair to make things right.
As I pushed the door open, the sound of low voices caught my attention, and I froze.
Rosa wasn't alone.
On the far side of the kitchen, Sofia stood beside her new maid, her voice dripping with a mixture of arrogance and condescension.
