秦枫headed out of the room, the door creaking open slightly. He walked down the hallway, the polished floor gleaming under the soft light. It was hard to believe this was his house, but the familiar scent of his mother’s perfume lingered in the air.

He made his way to the living room, where his mother was already waiting. She was sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of tea and reading the morning paper. When she saw him, she set down her cup and smiled warmly.

“Good morning, honey,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks,” he replied, sitting down beside her. “Still a little out of it, but I’ll be fine.”

His mother nodded, her eyes full of concern. “I’m glad you’re alright. Do you remember what happened?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “The last thing I remember is coming home from the party.”

His mother’s expression softened, and she reached out to pat his hand. “It’s okay, dear. You’ve been through a lot. Just take your time.”