The curved family room wasn’t just part of the house—it was its heart. The walls swept in a gentle arc, catching sunlight that drifted through tall glass panels and broke into warm, golden paths on the marble floor. Every sound inside felt hushed, like the air itself was listening. Somewhere beyond, faint music trembled through the walls—soft, patient, alive. It was a room that remembered laughter and still waited for it, holding the silence like a promise.
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