The warm glow of the weekend sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of Cammy's apartment, casting a soft light on the floor.
The air was already filled with the gentle hum of movement—pots clinking, chairs scraping, and the faint chatter of early risers eager to begin the day.
Cammy had woken up before sunrise, her mind restless but her heart lighter than it had been in the last few days.
Today was a fresh beginning—she could feel it in her bones. She'd taken a quick shower, thrown on a cozy shirt, and tied her hair into a loose bun just as the knock came at the door.
It was Eve, still dressed in pajamas and a hoodie, her hair in a wild braid, grinning sleepily but excited. "I brought boxes," she whispered as she walked in, raising them like trophies.
Just a few minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Moore arrived with a knock and a warm hug for Cammy. Mr. Moore was carrying a crate of newspapers and some boxes as well.
