The morning air is crisp and cool as I step outside, the early sunlight filtering through the trees. For the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of peace. Not the kind that comes from everything being perfect, but the kind that comes from knowing you’re on the right path. I’ve been taking slow steps toward healing, and every conversation with Dad, every quiet moment with Nanna and Pops, has brought me closer to the person I want to be.
But today feels different. There’s something hanging in the air, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I walk back inside, the house feels unusually still. I hear the soft murmur of voices in the living room. Nanna and Pops are sitting on the couch, and as I get closer, I notice Nanna holding the phone to her ear, her expression serious yet soft.
