When Chaos Leaves

Vittoria

The estate smells like rosemary, citrus, chocolate and roasted chicken and something warm that settles deep in the chest.

Christmas.

Not the loud, glittering kind that demands attention-but the quiet kind. The kind that exists in low laughter drifting down hallways, in soft footsteps, in the hum of safety finally earned.

I stand at the kitchen island with Chiara, sleeves rolled up, flour