Three months had passed since everything changed, and winter slipped into Moonstone like a soft blanket， light snow dusting the ground, cold enough to bite your cheeks but not mean enough to freeze your bones.
It felt like the world was giving us a break, a chance to breathe and fix what was broken without the sky throwing storms at us.
Alaric was three months old now, and every day he surprised me more.
He could sit up all by himself, his little back straight like he’d been practicing in secret.
He’d reach for toys on purpose, not just flailing his arms around, and he’d make these sweet cooing sounds that sounded almost like real words.
One morning, sunlight was pouring through the window, and I was rocking him gently when he looked right at me with those big, too-smart eyes and sai
