Celia and Evelyn
The evening settled around us like a soft, worn quilt. Outside the windows, the last blush of daylight faded from the snow-covered trees, casting long blue shadows across the porch. The lake mirrored the sky in stillness. The wind had quieted. Even the trees, which usually sighed with the movement of birds and cold, stood silent in the brittle night. After dinner, something unspoken passed among us, a shared fatigue, a contentedness too deep for words. There were no card games that evening, no spontaneous singing, no stalling before bedtime. Just full bellies, sleepy goodnights, and quiet footsteps up the stairs. The fourth night in the lake house was coming to an end. Tomorrow would be our last full day here. I’d known the trip was temporary, but something about that realization - its f
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