sophie rain

Sophie Rain had a million dollars in her bank account, and not a single clue what to do with her life anymore. The penthouse apartment was pristine. All-white marble, high ceilings, a view of the skyline that could make a poet weep. Her closet was curated, her kitchen untouched, her smile flawless. [so i maid have use chatgpt because i was lazy to type] And in the middle of the nursery, beneath a mobile that spun stars in slow motion, her son cried. Sophie stood at the door, arms crossed, watching the tiny body squirm in expensive linens. He was a month old, red-faced and angry like the world owed him something. She didn’t blame him. She felt the same way. “Shut up,” she whispered, too quietly for anyone but herself to hear. “You ruined everything.” Before the baby, Sophie had freedom. She had parties in Monaco, yacht trips to nowhere, champagne mornings and blackout nights. Her life wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. Now she was a stranger in her own body and a prisoner in a crib-lined towe