The morning sun filtered through the blinds in long golden stripes, illuminating the quiet apartment. Noah sat cross-legged on the living room rug, arranging his toy cars in neat rows, humming softly under his breath. Even the smallest disruptions—a shadow passing across the rug, the soft creak of the floorboards—did not disturb him now. His movements were deliberate, his focus steady, reflecting the weeks of guidance, routines, and reassurance that Ethan and she had instilled.
Ethan leaned against the doorway, coffee in hand, watching quietly. “Morning, buddy,” he said softly.
Noah glanced up briefly. “Morning, Daddy.”
“You look very focused today,” Ethan remarked.
“I want it all perfect,” Noah said simply.
Ethan smiled faintly. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, buddy. Care and attenti
