The first thing that hit me when I stepped back into my room wasn’t the sight. It was the smell.
Not the stale, forgotten odor I’d expected, the one that usually comes with isabella and her dirty habit but something softer. Warm, familiar. It smelled like freshly washed sheets, like a faint hint of lavender air freshener, like someone had cared enough to make this space feel… alive again. Beneath it all was that distinct scent I’d almost forgotten, the scent of home.
I stood there for a long moment, my hand still on the doorknob, trying to make sense of it. The room looked cleaner, brighter.... different in the best way. The bed was made neatly, the sheets tucked perfectly like someone had taken their time. My old posters , the ones that used to curl at the edges and peel off the wall, h
