I stood at the kitchen stove, flipping pancakes with newfound grace. My movements were quiet and deliberate, each motion carefully controlled. The sizzle of bacon formed a pleasant background melody, filling the condo with an inviting aroma. This wasn't just breakfast—it was my opening act, a performance of normalcy when everything had changed.
The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the kitchen in warm golden light. Outside, New Vein City sparkled, buildings gleaming like jewels against the blue sky. It would have been beautiful if I wasn't so acutely aware of the ticking time bomb our family had become.
Soft footsteps approached from behind. Natalia entered, fresh from the shower, her hair still damp and smelling faintly of my shampoo. She wore light gray loungewear that hugged her curves in all the right places. I caught a glimpse of the marks on her neck, barely concealed by a light layer of makeup. My marks. My claim.
