Emma
The apartment felt hollow in the gathering darkness. I sat motionless on the couch, still in my coat, the theme park tickets spread across the coffee table like abandoned dreams. Each colorful image seemed to mock me now - the dinosaur exhibit that would have made Noah's eyes light up with scientific curiosity, the fairy garden where Lottie would have twirled in delight.
My fingers traced the tickets' edges, remembering how excited I'd been buying them. I'd even planned the whole day - dinosaur-shaped sandwiches for lunch, fairy wings for Lottie, a special notebook for Noah to record his paleontological observations.
Sophie's earlier words echoed in my head: "You're a good mom." But good moms didn't get replaced. Good moms didn't watch their families smile for someone else's camera
