The air in Rowan's living room thickened like the fog rolling in from the mountains, heavy with unspoken histories and raw emotions. Anna stood in the doorway, her blonde hair damp from the melting snow, her green eyes scanning the room with a mix of desperation and defiance. Her suitcase sat at her feet, a silent intruder in the cozy space that Holly had come to think of as a budding home. Lily's small voice echoed again—"Mommy?"—piercing the tension like a fragile arrow. Rowan froze, his ...