𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 , 𝗔𝗢𝗧

𝟎𝟒:𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘

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ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ
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THE SHADOWS BENEATH MORGAN'S EYES

had deepened, not receding but etching themselves more permanently into her skin—a cruel testament to her inner turmoil and self-disgust. She caught her reflection in the sheen of the untouched soup on the dinner table, its chill mirroring her own. A note lay beside the bowl, Penelope handwriting curling across the paper, but Morgan paid it no mind.

She had ignored it earlier, and she would continue to do so. The words, though unread, seemed to radiate an undesired concern that Morgan was not prepared to confront. It was just as it was months before, the endless notes but no Penelope to ever be seen.

Morgan's encounters with Penelope had dwindled to fleeting moments, shadows passing in the night. If not for Morgan's late arrival and Penelope's stubbornness, in waiting for her to come home, Morgan doubted their paths would cross at all. Their communication had been whittled down to the barest of necessities—a cycle of cooking, cleaning, and leaving notes—a routine that was starting to wear on her spirit.

Knock

Knock

Knock

The smile that unfurled on Morgan's lips was irrepressible, a private joy blooming unexpectedly. The sun was high, suggesting it was around noon—a time that Morgan had come to associate with a lighter heart and the beginning of something akin to joy. It was the moment each day when the oppressive shadows that clung to her seemed to retreat, allowing her a taste of a life unburdened by the specters that usually haunted her. The rhythmic knocking was like a starter's pistol, signaling the commencement of her daily reprieve, where laughter could be heard and living felt genuine.

Morgan slid the bowl of soup away with a gentle nudge, the clinking sound echoing her disinterest. Rising from her chair, she pressed her fingers against her cheeks, physically smoothing away the remnants of her smile—a mask she felt she no longer needed to wear. Yet her steps toward the door were brisk, betraying an eagerness she couldn't fully disguise. She took a steadying breath and swung the door open.

As the door parted, the sunlight cascaded in, its brilliance momentarily overwhelming, until it was eclipsed by a figure standing in front of it.

Marco stood there, the sprinkling of freckles across his pallid complexion seemingly touched by the sun's own lips. His brown eyes, usually soft and inviting, took on an extra glint as the sunlight played upon them, illuminating a spark that Morgan found both familiar and heartwarming. His hair was cut a bit closer to his head than she remembered

He was dressed casually, the dark brown shorts complementing the simple black t-shirt that draped over his frame. As he caught sight of Morgan, his face lit up with an exuberant grin, and he waved enthusiastically, as though the few feet between them were miles.

"Hey!" Marco's greeting was infused with a brightness that matched his smile. "We thought we should go to the market today. You wanna join?"

Morgan's attempt to stifle her smile failed; it broke free. She reached up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I would lov- we?" she started, her words trailing off in surprise.