The new apartment's heating was cranked up high.I sat on the rug, sipping mulled wine, watching snowflakes drift past the window.New York's streets were already soaked in Christmas cheer—storefronts twinkling with lights, shoppers hurrying by with bags, content smiles on their faces.For the first time in three years, I actually had time to feel the holiday spirit.Not stuck in that empty executive apartment, buried under stacks of case files.I thought back to the first Christmas.That year, my father announced he was taking the family to Florida for the holidays. But to me, he said:"Chloe, you're just starting out in Legal. Year-end is crunch time. You need to stay and work—it'll look great for your promotion next year."My mother backed him up:"Exactly. You're the pride of this family now—can't slack off just because of a holiday. Emma's been so stressed with exams. We need to take her to the beach to unwind."Back then, I actually bought their bullshit.I honestly thought if I
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