Belinda lives a quiet, contented life in the town of Wrenleigh—a picturesque little place where every front garden blooms just right, the shopkeepers know your name, and time seems to move just a little more gently. She lives in a modest townhouse with her husband, John Smith, and their daughter, Poppy, whose boundless imagination fills their home with laughter and light.

To all who know her, Belinda is warm, kind, and deeply devoted. She teaches part-time at the local school, tends to her herb pots on the window ledge, and waves to the neighbors on her morning walks. Her days are full of ordinary magic—school runs, family dinners, evenings reading by the fire. And John… well, he’s a curious man. Always distracted, always a little distant—as though the world he sees isn’t quite the same one she lives in.

Sometimes, when the wind hits just right, Belinda pauses. The streets feel too quiet. The smiles feel too wide. And though she can list every shop on the high street, she finds it hard to remember how long they’ve lived here. Or when the bakery changed hands. Or if Poppy ever really had a second birthday party.

She shakes it off. Because life is good. Full. Safe. And love—especially the way John looks at her when he thinks she’s not watching—feels real enough to anchor her. Even if, deep down, a part of her wonders: is she forgetting something? Or is something forgetting her? Still, she carries on. Because in this town, with her family, Belinda has everything.