The drive to the cottage felt like moving through layers of herself. City towers fell away, replaced by open fields and bare trees dusted with early frost. With every kilometer, the noise inside her head quieted a little. By the time the road narrowed into forest, she could hear her own breathing again.
The cottage waited at the end of a gravel lane, roof hunched against the sky, windows clouded by age. It wasn’t pretty in the way her old apartment had been. It looked honest, a place that did not need to impress anyone. When Lauren stepped inside, the creak of the floorboards sounded like a welcome.