Daniel was sitting in the library, staring at the open book in front of him, but he wasn't reading it. His mind was too tangled in the mess of everything happening around him
He didn't even know why he had decided to cook for himself today. It was a strange impulse, one that felt almost juvenile, like he was trying to regain some control over his life that had slipped through his fingers.
The sound of a soft knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts. Margaret, the housekeeper, stepped in, looking slightly flustered.
"Mr. Smith," she began, looking at him apologetically, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you should know your mother is at the gate. She's wondering if you'd like her to come in."
Daniel's jaw tightened at the mention of his mother. He had been avoiding her calls for hours now, and the last thing he wanted was to have another confrontation with Eleanor Smith.
