The morning arrived quietly, the world outside soft with mist and muted sunlight. The house felt different, less like a battlefield and more like a sanctuary. After the chaos of Celeste’s threat, every corner seemed to exhale, allowing us a small reprieve. Marga was nestled against me on the couch, her small body warm and trusting, and for the first time in days, I allowed myself to breathe.

“You can see her light, can’t you?” I whispered, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Even ...