The days leading up to Noah’s visit settled into a rhythm that felt almost peaceful. The leaves on Maple Lane had turned deep gold and crimson, and the air carried that crisp edge that signaled autumn was fully here. Elias and I spent our mornings on practical things — deep-cleaning the house, stocking the pantry with things Amina loved, and even practicing a simple welcome dinner menu together. It wasn’t about perfection anymore. It was about showing up as the family we were trying to become.
One crisp afternoon, we were in the backyard raking leaves when Lena walked over with a tray of fresh apple cider donuts. She set them on the picnic table and sat down without being invited, something we’d grown to appreciate.
“So the big weekend is almost here,” she said, watching Elias pile anoth
