The next morning did not feel the same.
Nothing visible had changed.
The same gray light slipped through the window. The same distant traffic filled the air. The same cramped apartment held the same worn furniture and quiet warmth of a struggling but loving home.
Yet something had shifted.
Daniel felt it the moment he opened his eyes.
Not fear.
Not danger.
Just awareness.
Beside him, Emily was already awake.
She wasn't moving.
Just staring at the ceiling.
"You didn't sleep," Daniel said.
It wasn't a question.
Emily shook her head slowly. "Did you."
Daniel exhaled. "Not really."
Silence followed.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
Both of them were thinking about the same thing.
The curtain.
The movement.
The absence of explanation.
From the small crib beside the bed, a soft sound broke the quiet.
Evan.
Daniel and Emily turned at the same time.
Evan was awake.
Watching them.
Calm.
Always calm.
