LILY
The smell of toast and coffee filled the kitchen as I helped Alice with her breakfast, guiding her tiny hands as she tried to butter a slice of bread without making a mess. She hummed softly, completely absorbed, and for a moment, the tension of the past day faded. I smiled faintly, enjoying the simple normalcy.
“You’ve got it, Alice. Steady,” I said, leaning over to steady her hands.
“Like this?” she asked, eyes wide and earnest.
“Perfect,” I said, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
The front door clicked open, and I froze mid-motion, my heart giving a tiny, startled leap. It wasn’t Alice’s grandmother this time. I hadn’t expected anyone else.
And then I saw her.
She walked in like she owned the house, tall and impossibly poised. Her red hair was a cascade of curls that
