Chapter 28 - Shadows in the Snow
The afternoon sun began its slow descent toward the western hills, casting long indigo shadows across the snow-covered lawns of the estate. While Raphael attended to estate correspondence in the library, Sloan took a quiet walk along the perimeter stone wall, letting the crisp winter air clear her mind.
The transition from high-stakes corporate fixer to a woman anchored in land and community was a slow rewiring of the nervous system. Every now and then, a sudden sound—the sharp snap of a frozen tree branch, the distant hum of a vehicle on the mountain road—would trigger a micro-second of muscle memory, a phantom instinct searching for a threat. But the alarm would fade just as quickly, swallowed by the profound silence of the Hudson Valley.
As she reached the old wrought-iron gates at the main entrance, she noticed a local delivery van idling quietly by the pillar. The driver, an elderly man named Thomas who had delivered mail to the estate for decades, stepped out and waved cheerfully, hoisting a package onto his shoulder.
"Package for the household," Thomas called out, crunching through the snow. "Mostly seed catalogs for the spring planting and a letter from the regional medical board."
Sloan signed for the delivery with a simple flourish, feeling the tactile reality of physical mail—real letters from real people, unencrypted and unthreatened. When she brought the box back to the conservatory, Raphael was waiting by the fireplace, feeding dry oak logs into the flames.
"Seed catalogs?" Raphael raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he looked at the box.
May you like
"Apparently, we're planting an entire orchard of heirloom apples this spring," Sloan said, pulling out a brightly colored pamphlet filled with varieties like Honeycrisp and Gala. "According to Thomas, if we don't start prepping the soil by March, the local agricultural committee will revoke our citizenship."
"Then we'd better consult the chief horticulturalist immediately," Raphael laughed, pulling her down onto the leather sofa beside him. "Though I suspect your spreadsheet skills will translate remarkably well to apple tree spacing."
