POV: Siena

The apartment was quiet again. The kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty or sad, but warm and peaceful. Like the calm after a long storm.

It was still early in the morning, though sunlight had already started pouring in through the large windows, spilling across the wooden floors and casting golden patches of light on the furniture. The scent of coffee lingered faintly in the air, mixed with something sweeter — maybe the vanilla candle Roman had insisted on lighting last night.

I stood in the hallway for a long while, leaning slightly against the doorframe, watching my son sleep.

Roman had fallen asleep in a pile...