Sophia
Ethan stopped by on a quiet Wednesday afternoon, ostensibly to check on the front entrance repair from weeks earlier, though I suspected, as I often did lately, that the visit carried a little more purpose than the simple maintenance check suggested.
He found Noah and me sitting together near the window, sharing a late lunch during a rare slow stretch, and I watched something flicker briefly across his face before he settled it back into his usual easy, friendly demeanor.
"Hey," he said, setting his toolbox down near the door. "Didn't mean to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting," I said, waving him over. "Come sit, if you've got a minute. There's plenty of food."
He hesitated only briefly before joining us, the three of us falling into surprisingly easy conversation, though I
