The storm was gone, leaving behind dew-laced grass and a sky the color of forgiveness. I walked slowly to the garden cabin, where Rina had stayed the night.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, the soup bowl empty beside her.
When she looked up, her eyes were tired—but no longer vacant.
“Can I stay a little longer?” she whispered.
My heart broke and bloomed all at once.
“You can stay as long as you need.”
She gave the tiniest nod.
And in that moment, I knew we weren’t just building The Haven.
We were becoming it and with time and patience we will definitely pull through.
---
Days passed.
Rina didn’t speak much, but she started to move. Quietly, intentionally. She swept porches, stacked firewood, braided rope for the outdoor benches. She wasn’t trying
