snow on Maple Lane into slush and revealing patches of brown grass underneath. The house felt lighter without the heavy weight of Christmas decorations, but it also felt emptier with Amina back at school. She had left on January 6th with a promise to come home for a long weekend in February. She hadn’t given exact dates yet, but she had texted a few times since then — short, careful messages that still felt like lifelines.
Elias and I had fallen into a new rhythm. We no longer moved through the house like we were guarding a secret. We cooked together without glancing at the windows. We sat on the porch swing even when it was cold, talking about ordinary things and occasionally the bigger ones. The relief of that openness still surprised me some mornings.
One Tuesday afternoon, while Elia
