A QUIET MORNING, A SMALL VICTORY

The morning air was crisp, the kind that made you want to stay wrapped in your blanket just a little longer. But Becky was already up, quietly moving through the kitchen in her soft, padded slippers. She stirred the porridge, toasted the bread, and boiled the tea with practiced care. Today felt different. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, but they were not from fear. It was something closer to anticipation nervous excitement.