A year had passed, and life had settled into a rhythm that felt both foreign and profoundly right. The high-stakes drama of the past-the corporate betrayals, the public reckonings, the whispered conspiracies-had faded into the background, becoming a story we told over late-night cups of tea, a cautionary tale of a life once lived in a frantic, unforgiving world. 

Now, our world was defined by the gentle hum of normalcy.

I was working on a new piece, a canvas overflowing with soft, muted ...