ALEXANDRADinner was simple. Pasta, salad, bread from the bakery in town. We ate on the deck as the last light faded. Ella talked about school. About a friend who was being mean, about a project she was excited about, about a book she was reading that was "the best book ever, Mom, you have to read it." Leo ate quietly, occasionally adding a comment that showed he'd been listening even when he seemed distracted. After dinner, they helped clear the table. It was a rule—everyone helped, no exceptions. They grumbled, but they did it. Then baths, then stories, then bed. I stood in the doorway of Leo's room while Liam read to him. Ella was already asleep in her room, worn out from her own storytelling. Liam's voice was low and steady. Leo's eyes were heavy. When the story ended, Liam kissed his forehead and stood. "Love you, Dad," Leo murmured. "Love you too, buddy. Sleep well." He walked out, pulled the door half-closed, and joined me in the hall. "They're getting big," I said.
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