Chapter 87 The Walls Between Us
The scent of fresh coffee curled through the morning air, mingling with the golden glow of the rising sun spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Genevieve sat at the long oak dining table, her fingers curled around a porcelain cup, the warmth grounding her. She wasn’t hungry. Not really. But she needed something, anything to hold onto, something to keep her from unraveling after last night.
The door creaked open. A shadow cut through the sunlight.
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