Alina’s POV
We spent the morning building a fort from driftwood and shells. Leo dictated every detail, towers, secret tunnels, bridges. Sebastian assisted quietly, letting Leo’s imagination lead, while I observed.
The joy on their faces reminded me that healing often arrived in ordinary victories: collaboration, creativity, laughter, acknowledgment. Each repeated gesture stitched quiet trust into the fabric of our lives.
By afternoon, I had set up my paints, letting colors flow freely across the canvas, blues and golds reflecting the sunlight on the waves. Leo sat beside me, humming softly as he colored his own pictures. Sebastian brought iced tea and placed it carefully on the table without comment.
The quiet domesticity, the repeated, deliberate acts of care had become sacred. Trus
