Theresa.
The sun was high in the sky by the time I finally pushed back the armchair and stood up. The quiet warmth of the morning had seeped into my bones, easing the deep, phantom ache that had haunted my chest for weeks. My hands didn't tremble when I adjusted the sleeves of my soft cardigan, and when I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror, the pale, hollow look of a dying hospital patient was gone.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I looked like myself again.
A firm, respectful knock sounded at the suite door before Nora stepped inside, her keen eyes instantly evaluating my posture, my breathing, and the steady color back in my cheeks.
"You look ready, Ma'am," Nora observed softly, a subtle nod of approval accompanying her calm words.
"I am," I said, my voice steady and rooted in a quiet, unshakeable strength. "I'm done hiding in this room, Nora. It's time to step down."
