On Saturday, I took Leo and Maya to the park one last time. I watched them race for the swings, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. I soaked in every second of their joy, memorizing the way the sun hit their hair.
“Higher, Gran! Push me higher!” Leo shouted.
As I pushed him, I looked at my watch. In forty-eight hours, Marcus and Sarah would wake up to an empty kitchen, an empty schedule, and a very loud realization of what “nothing” actually looks like.
