The morning was quiet and soft. Maya stood by the window of her living room, holding a warm cup of tea. Elias was still asleep on the couch, one arm covering his face. He had insisted on staying the night, just in case she felt overwhelmed again after the letter from the orphanage. But Maya had felt comforted just by having him nearby.

She smiled as she watched him sleep. There was something peaceful about him in that moment, something gentle. Her heart felt warm.

When Elias finally stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes, Maya greeted him with a quiet laugh. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Elias blinked a few times, then...