Some wounds never heal. They simply become part of the person carrying them. 10 Years ago, Adrian Cross lost everything that mattered. The decorated Special Forces captain who once returned home with stories and laughter now came home to silence. Since then, he'd traded medals for dangerous contracts, conversations for solitude, and hope for routine. His days were predictable. Wake before dawn. Take the job. Come home. Eat alone. Sleep only when exhaustion finally overpowered the nightmares. The spare bedroom upstairs hadn't been opened in years. He intended to keep it that way. Until one rainy afternoon... A key turned in the front door. Cardboard boxes scraped across the wooden floor, followed by an unmistakably cheerful voice humming to itself. "Finally... home." Adrian froze. Someone was inside his house. He stepped into the hallway to find a complete stranger happily unpacking colorful boxes as though she'd lived there forever. She looked up, smiled as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and waved. "Oh! You must be Adrian." "...Who are you?" "Your new roommate." Silence. The rental agency had made a mistake. And neither of them knew that one simple mistake was about to change both of their lives forever.