The morning light filtered softly through the windows of Amara's room, casting golden patches across the floor. Amara stood by the bookshelf, straightening toys that Sera had already arranged perfectly the night before. Her fingers moved slowly, more for distraction than for tidiness.
She could hear Sera humming quietly in the next room. That sound—carefree, sweet—had become her favorite part of every day. It made everything feel normal, even in a house where nothing truly was.
But today, her heart felt heavier. She knew what she had to do.
She walked into Sera’s playroom with a smile on her face, holding a tray of warm milk and toast.
“Morning, sunshine,” Amara said cheerfully.
Sera turned, beaming. “Good morning, Miss Amara! You slept well?”
“I did,” she replied, settling on the ru
