The house was unusually quiet.
Not the hollow, echoing kind of quiet that had once made Eve feel like an intruder wandering through a museum of other people’s memories. Not the brittle and cold kind of quiet that used to stretch between the walls like tension, making even her footsteps feel unwelcome. And not the unnerving kind of quiet that came when she feared she might do something wrong, something that would set Ryan off, or embarrass his family, or prove to the world that the scandal-tainted wife did not belong here.
No.
Today’s quiet was different.
It was soft. Warm. Gentle in a way that wrapped around her like a light blanket. A quiet that soothed instead of stung. A quiet that settled into her bones with a strange, almost surreal sense of peace, as though the house itself had f
