The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of rain from the previous night. Zoey moved through the house with careful precision, making sure the children were awake, fed, and occupied. Her mind, however, was far from breakfast or morning routines. Daniel’s presence lingered like a shadow over everything—every glance, every tone of his voice, every sudden movement kept her on edge.

Avila hummed quietly at the table while nibbling her toast, her tiny fingers gripping Mrs. Ella’s photo as if it were a shield against the world. Vivian sat across from her, arms folded, her expression unreadable. Zoey offered a soft smile, masking the storm inside her.

“Today will...