The days fell into rhythm. Morning tea on the back steps, Nina tumbling through the grass like a wind-up toy. Afternoons spent lounging in pockets of sun. At night, she’d fall asleep to the kitten’s soft breathing nestled against her ribs. It was during one of those mornings that everything shifted.
The sky was a perfect blue. The kind that made you forget storms existed. Lisa stood barefoot on the patio, a cup of mint tea cradled in her palms, her gaze drifting between the dandelions and the treeline. Nina had darted outside moments earlier, chasing a moth or leaf or ghost only she could see.