Bailey's POV The Memory SequenceThe morning after Thanksgiving was unusually still.The type of calm that encouraged reflection, coffee on the patio, and a gradual unfolding of matters that had lingered too long below the surface. Bailey positioned herself with crossed legs on the carpet in Lyla’s bright, sunlit study, enveloped by a messy assortment of vintage family photo books, newspaper cutouts, and memory boxes. A hot cup of tea lingered unattended next to her. Lyla had told her to make herself at home. But home—real home—was what Bailey was trying to define again.She stumbled into one of the older albums, the edges going bad with time. There were pictures of Claire, their mother, and even one or two rare photos of their father. Bailey blinked, then leaned closer. One photo caught her eye: a blurry image of Lyla holding a much younger Bailey on a beach, both their faces lit by unrestrained laughter.She didn’t remember this day. Not a bit of it.But something about it stirre
Last Updated : 2025-04-27 Read more