Back home, the fire crackled. Lucky pounced on a squeaky toy; Grace stole Thomas’s slipper and paraded it like a trophy until laughter filled the room.
He set two bowls down—one big, one small—and watched them eat side by side. Simple, ordinary, perfect.
When the dishes were clean and the house went quiet, Grace circled twice and lay down near the couch. Lucky tucked himself under her chin, as always.
Thomas dimmed the lamp and listened to their breathing, steady and safe. The sound felt like home.
