The drive back from the construction site felt different than the trip there.
On the way out, excitement had buzzed between them like a live current—anticipation, laughter, the thrill of seeing their dream home rise out of the earth like something conjured.
But on the return, the mood shifted. It wasn't somber, exactly. More like a humming quiet, as though each of them was privately nesting the image of their almost-finished house in the softest parts of their minds.
Nova slept in her car seat, her little hand curled into a fist that still clutched the petal of a flower she'd conjured earlier.
Samantha sat turned slightly toward her, drinking in the sight. Every time she looked at her daughter, something in her chest unraveled, only to stitch itself back together stronger than before.
