For the past few days, it’s felt as though life has handed me a second chance. Maybe not the kind that comes wrapped in light or redemption, but one that forces you to stop and look back—to remember who you were before everything fell apart.

Lately, my mind has been a carousel of flashbacks. Some sweet. Some sharp.

This morning, sitting on the edge of my bed, I caught sight of something half-hidden on the dresser—a photograph tucked behind a stack of old books. I hadn’t looked at it ...