Ivy
The park was quiet for a weekday, the sun casting a golden haze over the trimmed grass and scattered benches. Lila was bundled in a soft cream sweater, her tiny hand clutching mine with surprising strength. Camille carried a tote with snacks and toys, humming some tune under her breath as we walked.
“I think she’s going to love this,” Camille said. “Some fresh air will be good for both of you.”
I nodded, trying to shake off the unease that had been clinging to me since the restaurant. Since the photo shoots. Since the silence.
Lila giggled as she spotted a pigeon and tried to toddle toward it with her wobbly legs, nearly dragging me along. I laughed softly, crouching to keep her steady.
And then I heard it.
A voice I hadn’t heard in almost a year.
Not speaking to me, not yet, bu
