The sun had barely risen, and a soft golden light bathed the house and garden. The birds timidly sang, as if to greet the tranquility of this new day. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, a certain tension lingered in the air, a remnant of the conversation from the previous evening under the great oak tree.
I had woken up early, unable to find sleep. Ezran's words still echoed in my head, mingled with the fragments of my hazy dreams. These pieces of a past I couldn't grasp relentlessly pursued me, like a puzzle whose missing pieces refused to come together.
In the kitchen, Anna was preparing coffee, her apron already stained with flour. She gave me a warm smile as I entered. "Ah, Murielle, you're up early today! Sit down, I'll bring you a cup."
I sat silently at the wooden table, my fingers absentmindedly playing with a crumb left on the surface. Anna placed a steaming cup in front of me, observing my face closely.
