That evening, the sky was painted with golden clouds, sunlight filtering gently through the falling leaves of the maple trees. Eliana sat on Olivia’s lap on the front porch, coloring with her pencils. Hunter was trimming the plants in the yard, glancing at them now and then with a quiet smile.

Unexpectedly, Eliana stopped drawing. She looked up at Olivia, her clear eyes no longer just filled with curiosity, but with a growing sense of maturity.

“Mama,” she whispered, “why did we used to live alone in that little house? Why are we only with Papa now?”

Olivia fell silent. She had imagined this question might come one day, but...