By the time Ava got home, the sky had already begun to dim into evening, the light outside softer, quieter—like the world had decided to lower its voice.
She parked slowly, her hands steady on the wheel now, though the ache behind her eyes hadn’t quite left.
The house stood the same way it always did.
She stepped inside.
The television murmured from the living room—news anchors talking in calm, measured tones, the rhythm familiar enough to blend into the background.
Matthew sat on the couch, one arm resting along the back, his attention fixed on the screen.
He turned at the sound of the door.
“Ava.” His voice carried easily across the room.
She slipped off her shoes, setting her bag down with care before stepping further in.
“You’re back.”
She nodded, offering a small, quiet smil
