The sound of Amelia’s giggles echoed down the hall, bright and infectious, and for a moment, Isabelle just stood there, listening. The sound should’ve made her smile — once upon a time, it would have — but tonight, it only deepened the ache that had been sitting in her chest for weeks. She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder, the weight of it pressing into her like the long hours she’d just put in. Late, again.
The guilt was immediate and sharp.
She took a breath, then pushed the door open. The sight inside was picture-perfect and painful all at once.
Sophia sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing a plastic tiara that sat slightly askew on her head. Amelia knelt in front of her, tongue peeking out in concentration as she carefully painted Sophia’s nails a bright, sticky pink. Elliott
