LILY
The house quieted after Alice fell asleep.
It always did, settling into a hush that felt almost reverent, like the walls themselves knew better than to make a sound.
I tucked the blanket around her small shoulders, smoothing her hair back gently. Her lashes fluttered once, then stilled. She slept curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, breathing soft and even.
I lingered longer than necessary.
Only when I was certain she wouldn’t wake did I straighten and leave the room, pulling the door shut with care. The hallway lights were dimmed, the carpet muffling my footsteps as I descended the stairs.
That was when I smelled coffee.
It was late—far later than Margaret usually stayed up. The kitchen lights were on, a soft yellow glow spilling into the hallway. I paused a
