Morning light spilled softly across the kitchen, painting the counters gold. Nova sat on the stool with her feet swinging, clutching her favorite stuffed rabbit while I buttered toast. She was humming to herself, off-key and sweet, like the world outside these walls wasn’t dark and closing in.
Noah leaned against the counter, coffee in hand, his eyes softer than I’d seen them in days as he watched her. For a moment, the three of us almost felt… normal.
Nova looked up suddenly. “Can we go to the park today?” she asked, crumbs at the corners of her mouth.
I forced a smile. “Maybe later baby, mommy has some errands first.”
Her face fell, and guilt pinched at me. I reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But pancakes tomorrow morning,” I whispered, as if it were a secret.
