The morning sun spilled its golden light across the living room, gently illuminating Alliah as she sat propped against pillows on the couch. Her abdomen was still tender, but each day brought subtle improvements. The pain, while persistent, was less sharp. She was learning to move with care, to breathe through discomfort, and, above all, to be patient with herself.
Joshua sat on the floor, sketching animatedly with colored pencils. His small fingers moved deftly, forming shapes that seemed to leap off the page. He occasionally glanced up at his mother, eyes shining with pride.
“Mommy, look! I drew us,” he said, holding up a drawing of Alliah, Joshua, and a tall figure standing behind them—Jamiro, with a gentle smile that seemed to radiate warmth even on paper.
Alliah’s heart fluttered.
