The morning light was softer than usual, filtered through a thin haze of clouds. Noah sat at the kitchen table, carefully arranging his colored pencils once more. Each pencil was aligned perfectly, a small testament to the routines and habits he had internalized over the past weeks.
Ethan stood nearby, coffee in hand, watching silently. There was a quiet pride in observing the small changes—how Noah’s focus had deepened, how his patience had grown, and how he no longer panicked at small disruptions.
“Morning, buddy,” Ethan said softly.
“Morning, Daddy,” Noah replied, glancing up briefly.
“You look very intentional today,” Ethan said.
Noah considered this. “I want to do it right.”
“You always do, buddy,” Ethan said with a faint smile. “Intentionality matters more than speed or perfect
