The morning after Mira and Thorne returned, the garden woke slowly. Fog clung to the ground, thick and silver, blurring the edges between the two houses. I stood at the window with a cup of tea, watching the yellow door emerge and disappear as the mist shifted. It was the kind of morning that demanded nothing except patience.
Cassian came up behind me, his chest warm against my back. "You are up early."
"Could not sleep. Kept thinking about the stone."
"The marker?"
"Yes." I turned in his arms. "It made me realize how long it has been since we marked anything. Since we acknowledged that time is passing and we are still here."
He kissed my forehead. "We mark things every day. The girls' drawings. The repairs. The meals we share. The path we walk. Not everything needs a stone."
"Maybe
