I stepped inside, put my bag down, and hugged her.

The house smelled of rosemary, fresh bread, and the faint lemon polish she had used since I was a child.

Dad’s photograph stood on the mantel.

The new green walls made the room feel open and easy.

A stranger might have seen only an ordinary family gathering.

There was no uniform waiting upstairs for a dramatic reveal.

No powerful man to expose.

No audience eager for a villain’s downfall.