The next morning came like the day of rapture.
Darren stepped down the grand staircase of his mansion, his polished shoes tapping lightly against the wooden steps.
The morning sun filtered through the high windows, long shadows were casted along the nest tiled floor. He adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, his face was blank and determined, all he could think of was the weight of the day already pressing on his shoulders.
At the bottom of the stairs, his housekeeper, Gladys, stood near the doorway, sorting a small pile of mail. The elderly woman looked up at him with a warm, knowing smile.
"Visitors today?" she asked warmly.
Darren shook his head. "No, you have the whole house to yourself." He picked up his coat from the hanger, sliding it on smoothly. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind making me something before I get back. It's going to be a difficult day."
Gladys chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Anything for you, dear."
