The next morning dawned crisp and cold, with Serena gazing out at the manicured lawn of her family's estate. The serenity was undeniable, yet the vast house felt empty. She was alone, save for the
occasional presence of the staff.
At last, Betty, the housekeeper, arrived with a basket, interrupting Serena's solitude. "Hey, Betty."
Serena called out, a hopeful lilt in her voice.
"Why are you waiting out here, Serena? It's chilly—come inside," Betty chided gently.
Inside, Betty set down the breakfast tray, arranging the simple, yet familiar, toast, eggs, and bacon.
Serena eyed the modest fare with a mix of gratitude and resignation, then sat down to eat.
"Betty, the main house was so lively last night. Was there something to celebrate?" Serena inquired, probing for gossip.
