Kelly’s First-Person POV

The afternoon's last light was starting to fade, casting the trees like a slow, golden stream. The backyard, once bursting with balloons, laughter, and the chaos of Harper’s sixteenth birthday, now lay quiet except for the occasional clink of dishes from the patio. Adrian was out there still, scrubbing plates and wiping down the grill, humming a tune that felt both nostalgic and weary.

Susan and I sank into the old wooden chairs on the porch, the kind that creaked like they remembered every story we’d ever told sitting here. She handed me a glass of wine, nothing fancy, just the cheap Merlot we grabbed together this...