The house felt different after Amina left. Not empty, but quieter in a way that no longer carried tension. The lilacs were still blooming, and the days were growing longer. Elias and I had started leaving the porch door open in the evenings, letting the warm air move through the house. It was a small thing, but it felt significant — like we were no longer guarding every sound and movement.
Amina had been back at school for almost two weeks. She texted more often now. Not long messages, but steady ones. A photo of the campus starting to turn green. A complaint about a difficult professor. A simple “Thinking about the porch today” that made Elias smile every time he read it.
One Thursday evening, while we were making dinner, Elias’s phone buzzed. He read the message out loud.
Amina: I’ve
