I stood near the kitchen counter with a mug of black coffee. Across the island, Jessi quietly sliced apples for Leo.
The simple domestic rhythm felt like a room from which I had been locked out for years: familiar, painful, and unexpectedly warm.
Leo lifted two blue bricks.
“Ivan, can you help me build this tower? Mom says it keeps falling because the bottom is too thin.”
I set down my mug and knelt beside him.
“Your mom is right.”
I picked up a wide green baseplate.
“If you want
