Chapter 24

The click of the front door latch echoed through the quiet house, a stark contrast to the morning's cacophony. I leaned against the cool wood, the silence a tangible presence after the whirlwind of getting Sophie and Cal Jr. ready for school. The absence of their little footsteps, the absence of their excited chatter about cartoon characters and playground adventures, the absence of Cal Jr.'s sleepy, soft grumbles, was both a relief and a pang of loneliness. The house, usually a vibrant hub of activity, felt cavernous and still. I closed my eyes, allowing the quiet to wash over me, a rare and precious moment of solitude. As much as my heart overflowed with love for my children, these stolen moments of peace were essential, a recharge for the constant demands of motherhood and my demanding night shifts at the hospital.