The dream did not end. It loosened, softened, and then shifted again around Danielle and Rowan like a living thing deciding what to show next.
The air brightened.
Suddenly the apartment was gone, replaced by open space and sharp daylight. The smell of dust, grass, and rubber filled Danielle’s nose. A schoolyard. Cracked asphalt beneath phantom paws. A rusted swing set groaning faintly as it moved in the breeze. Children’s voices echoed everywhere, high and sharp and overlapping.
Recess.
Mason stood near the edge of the playground, small and unsure, hands curled into the hem of his shirt. He looked about six now. Still thin. Still wearing clothes that were too big in some places and too small in others. The fabric was faded from too many washes, stiff with old stains that no amount of s
