The drive home was quiet, the streets lit with the soft glow of holiday lights.
But my mind was far from calm.
The apartment, the meeting next week, the weight of Aunt Margaret’s influence—it all loomed large.
Every Christmas light seemed to blink with the rhythm of my own uncertainty.
Back in my apartment, I tried to unwind.
The familiar creaks and groans of the building seemed to echo my restless thoughts.
How could an apartment cost $400?
Why had Aunt Margaret mentioned it so casually, so cryptically?
Sleep was elusive, the questions crowding my mind, refusing to settle.
The night stretched on, long and restless.
