Caelen POVThe house had been loud in the way it had been for years now. Not the sharp, alarming noise of a newborn or the exhausted hum of early toddlerhood, but a particular kind of loudness belonging to three boys who had grown into themselves, into their opinions, humor, and unique ways of moving through a room. Adrian, at nine, carried the focused intensity of someone who had already decided what mattered and pursued it with unwavering determination. The twins, at seven, engaged in a continuous bilateral conversation, James methodical and precise, Lucas perpetually in motion. Together, they exuded a gravity all their own.The house held all of this as it always had, still featuring the wooden letters on Adrian’s wall and the star mobile long since stored away but not discarded. The mobile sat in the attic in a box labeled "Adrian, First Year," one of four boxes now, one for each child, with a special box holding the twins’ first months together because there had been no other way
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