Anabella walked home from the bakery, her steps heavy and her mind clouded. The scent of freshly baked bread still clung to her clothes, but the comfort it usually brought was absent tonight.
Her conversation with Mr. Callum replayed in her head, especially his longing words about mates and soul bonds.
How could something that felt like a curse to her seem like a fairytale to someone else?
She reached her small apartment, unlocking the door with trembling fingers. The quiet stillness of the space greeted her, offering a brief sense of security. She kicked off her shoes, letting out a long, shaky breath.
Just as she was about to collapse onto the worn couch, her phone buzzed loudly on the table. The screen lit up with a familiar number she hadn't seen in months. Her mother.
