Chapter 137

Two years later, the apartment felt smaller.

Not because its walls had moved—but because life inside it had grown louder.

Tiny shoes collected by the door.

Crayon marks on the edge of the coffee table.

A bookshelf that once held carefully arranged novels now shared space with board books about animals and bedtime routines.

Their child—no longer a baby—ran through the living room with fearless momentum, laughter echoing off the walls.

“Slow down!” she called ...