The rain cleared out with the night, and by morning, the village seemed to exhale. The sky was a clear watercolor wash of blue, streaked with delicate gold at the edges. Birds darted through the trees, calling to each other like they had news to share, and the narrow roads leading from the cottage to the main square bustled with quiet anticipation.It was fair day.The spring fair came once a year, organized by the local community board and packed with the kind of charming stalls and activities that felt untouched by time. Ivy had signed them up for a booth — homemade herb salts, jams, and fresh bread, mostly for fun — and the twins had been bouncing with excitement since they woke.Van helped them get dressed, choosing matching overalls for the twins and a loose linen shirt for himself. Ivy wore a yellow sundress and a wide hat that made her look like she’d stepped out of a vintage postcard. When Van told her so, she rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek.They packed the car with fold

The scent of simmering herbs met Lila at the door.Inside the cottage, warmth radiated from every corner — a blend of candlelight, worn wood, and laughter echoing from the kitchen. The front hallway was cluttered with little shoes and an abandoned toy train that let out a cheerful whistle when stepped on.“Oops!” Lila laughed, stepping back. “Someone’s train tried to trip me.”“We told him not to leave it there,” Ivy called from the kitchen. “But you know Billy— future engineer, present-day chaos.”Van peeked out from behind a cabinet door, wiping his hands on a towel. “Glad you could make it. Dinner’s almost ready. You’re just in time to stir.”Lila’s face lit up — gently, but bright enough to impress. “My specialty.”The kitchen was full of motion. Ivy chopped carrots with casual precision. Van measured out herbs with more ceremony than the task required, clearly enjoying the excuse to fuss. The twins danced in and out, arguing about whether soup should have noodles or dumplings.Bi

Van sat cross-legged on the living room floor, a half-assembled wooden train track winding around him in a wide arc. One of the twins — Billy— was determined to create a “rollercoaster loop,” while his sister Chloe perched on the couch, carefully drawing in a spiral-bound sketchbook. Ivy wandered in from the kitchen with a bowl of strawberries, popping one into her mouth before tossing a few to the kids. Her eyes found Van's, and they exchanged a look that was equal parts affection and quiet relief.It was the first time in months that their home felt like a home again.Outside, the afternoon sun cast a golden spill across the windows. Someone had lit a barbecue two doors down — a curl of smoke rose into the sky, mixed with the smell of grilled onions and sweet corn.Peace, Van thought. This is peace.The doorbell rang.“I’ll get it!” Chloe yelled, already sprinting toward the door.Van got up more slowly, brushing wood dust off his sweatpants. Chloe swung the door open, and there sto

The house Lila lived in was nothing like Van’s.It sat on the far side of town, a modest one-bedroom flat carved into the upper floor of a converted duplex. The windows were narrow, the ceiling slanted in places, and the kitchen could be crossed in three steps. There was no manicured garden, no warm hum of family in the rooms — just silence, broken only by the ticking of a crooked clock mounted on a wall that hadn’t been repainted in years.Lila stepped inside, kicked off her shoes, and dropped the charming canvas tote onto a kitchen chair. It landed with a soft thud, displacing the stack of unopened letters already there.She stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The light was different here — colder, more severe — and the air had a dusty edge. She didn’t mind. She preferred it this way.No one to put on a show for.No one watching her smile too long or stand too close.She made tea, not because she needed it, but because it gave her hands something to do. Then she moved th

The house carried the usual soft rhythm of late morning. Birds chirped outside the kitchen window, sunlight slid across the counters, and the scent of cinnamon rolls Ivy had made with Billy still lingered. But Ivy’s mind was elsewhere.She sat across from Lila at the breakfast table, a mug of tea warming her hands. Van had taken the twins out to pick up supplies for the garden, and it was just the two of them now.Lila was talking about her morning jog — the trees, the light, the smell of dew. Ivy smiled and nodded, listening carefully. Watching.“I passed the bakery near the square,” Lila said, stirring her tea. “The old man with the cherry danishes asked after your kids again. He always says Chloe reminds him of his granddaughter.”Ivy gave a soft laugh. “She’s good at charming older folks.”Lila tilted her head. “She’s good at charming everyone. Just like her dad.”That was the first.Ivy caught the shift — the way Lila’s voice had softened on dad. She noted it, carefully placing i