The soft sizzle of eggs in the frying pan filled the kitchen with warmth. Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the white tiles. Jane stood at the stove, gently flipping the omelet, her mind wandering as it usually did—wondering what the day would be like, wondering if Kim would even eat with her, wondering if the smiles he’d given her lately meant anything real.

Then she felt it—arms, warm and firm, wrap around her waist from behind.

She ...