Chapter 26 What Remains

There's a kind of silence that doesn't feel empty.

Not the kind that echoes.

Not the kind that swallows you whole.

But the kind that settles in a room like light through a curtain.

Soft.

Warm.

Enduring.

That's the silence our home holds now.

It's not mourning.

It's not longing.

It's a memory.

Breathing beside us, day after day, in e