The new apartment did not echo like the penthouse used to. It was not bigger or flashier. But it felt intentional. Lynda woke up on that first Saturday without setting any alarm, sunlight leaking across bare walls and piles of unopened boxes. No assistants pinging her. No calendar reminders blinking with that edge of panic. Just quiet. For the first time in months, nothing demanded her reaction. She was just there. And that silence dragged something uneasy up from inside her. She had built this ...