She dressed mechanically, fastening jewelry she hadn’t chosen, wearing a life she still wasn’t sure she wanted. Six months ago, she had been a wife in a gilded cage. Now she was a widow in a tailored suit, expected to steer a company she’d only ever been adjacent to. Grief tangled with relief in ways she refused to name. Loving him had been complicated. Living without him was worse in different ways.

As she stepped into the hallway, the smell of coffee reached her. The butler had already started breakfast. Of course he had. The house ran smoother now than it ever had before, and that realization filled her with a sharp, unwanted guilt. Mandy listened to him, somehow, rolling her eyes but still showing up on time. Little Sara adored him outright, trailing after him like a shadow.

Crystal paused outside the kitchen, hand resting on the doorframe. She should have felt grateful. She did feel grateful. But beneath it pulsed something else — the fear that she was being quietly replaced in her own home, and the shame of how much easier everything seemed when someone else was holding it together.