The morning air was warm and gentle. The sun had risen, with light clouds softening its rays as they streamed down to the earth.
A mild breeze drifted lazily through the suburban landscape, the leaves swaying to its rhythm, carrying the fresh scent of blooming flowers and clean streets.
It wasn't hot or cold—just comfortable and soothing, like slipping into your favorite shirt.
Birds chirped from the trees, their soft melodies blending with the hum of the city as they gradually stirred awake. Everything felt calm and unhurried.
Country Y lay in peaceful stillness, its tabloids featuring only the usual headlines of celebrity scandals, economic updates, and the usual political banter but beneath this calm, a silent storm was beginning to gather in the Allen family.
The sunlight reflected off the body of a sleek black car speeding toward the suburbs, its body gleaming under the morning rays.
