Three months pass quietly.
Not in struggle.
Not in survival.
But in something steadier.
Something softer.
Life.
There are no sharp edges anymore.
No sudden drops into silence. No moments where Willow feels like she is slipping beneath something she cannot name.
There are still difficult days. There always will be.
But they are no longer consuming. No longer defining. They pass. And she remains.
The twins are louder now. Faster. More demanding in ways that bring laughter instead of fear.
Talon runs before he thinks. Phoenix watches before he follows.
Willow moves between them with ease.
Not perfection, but confidence.
She catches. She steadies. She soothes.
And sometimes, she simply sits with them and lets them be exactly what they are.
Children.
Not responsibilities. Not e
