The elevator chimed softly as it stopped on the twelfth floor. Renne balanced two suitcases while Ethan and Evan clung to her legs, still giggling from the ride.
“Here we are,” Renne said, nudging the door open with her hip. “Home sweet home.”
Emma stepped inside slowly, her heart tight. The apartment smelled faintly of lavender and fresh paint — bright, cozy, with wide windows that caught the afternoon sun. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt safe. It felt like theirs.
Her eyes swept the little living room — two small beds already made up, a kitchen that looked brand new. “It’s perfect,” she murmured, setting her purse down.
“Mommy! Look!” Ethan’s voice rang out as he ran toward the balcony. “You can see all the cars from here!”
Evan followed, his laughter soft but breathless. He leaned on
