At Blake Martinez Villa, afternoon sunlight filtered through tall glass windows, painting warm golden stripes across the polished marble floor.
A silver tea set sat between Blake and Grace Martinez, steam curling lazily from their cups.
The television murmured softly in the background, broadcasting the afternoon news.
Blake Martinez sat comfortably in his armchair, one leg crossed over the other, calm and composed as always.
His wife, Grace, sat beside him, her attention half on her tea and half on the television.
Then the news anchor's voice sharpened with excitement.
"…and in an unexpected turn of weather, Pine Mountain experienced its first snowfall of the season this morning…"
Grace straightened instantly. Her eyes widened as snowy images filled the screen. White blankets draped over pine trees. Roads glimmered under frost. Tiny figures played in the snow.
Her heart stirred with a familiar ache.
'Natalie... Oh, my dear baby. She might be lonely now there...'
