Tim's grip on Seraphina's tiny hand was firm yet gentle as they approached Aurora's house. She was still humming a song she had made up in the car, swinging their joined hands between them.
"I think I want spaghetti for dinner," Seraphina mused.
Tim smirked. "Think or know?"
She scrunched her nose in thought. "Know. But only if Mommy makes it."
Tim's chest tightened at the casual certainty in her voice. There were so many things he had missed—little details like what her favorite foods were, what her bedtime routine looked like, what made her feel safe. He didn't want to miss anything else.
When they reached the door, Seraphina rang the bell twice before pushing it open, already comfortable enough in his presence to assume he'd follow.
Tim stepped in behind her, his gaze flickering around the space he had never entered before.
Aurora's house was modest but warm, a reflection of the life she had built with Seraphina. Simple, yet full of color.
