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A chance to mend what’s broken.

Lily

As I was setting the dinner table later that night, arranging the silverware with a deliberate precision, the quiet hum of the evening was suddenly interrupted by the soft creak of the door. Mrs. Donovan entered the room with a warm smile gracing her features, her presence instantly filling the space with a sense of comfort. As her eyes met mine, she moved closer, enveloping me in a brief but heartfelt hug.

"Lily, dear," she said softly, her voice carrying a gentle warmth, "would you mind going upstairs and calling Noah down for dinner? It's almost ready, and I'm sure he's buried in his books again."

Nodding in response, I couldn't help but feel a subtle tension prickling at the edges of my consciousness. Noah and I had a complicated history, one that left me constantly on edge whenever we were in close distance. I knew I couldn't fail her since Mrs. Donovan trusted me to fetch her son, unaware of the uneasy tension that simmered beneath the surface.

Reluctantly tearing myself aw
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