I thought nothing could take that moment away.
I was wrong.
The house felt empty before I even stepped inside.
No lights.
No sound.
No life.
I pushed the door open slowly.
“Mara? Mom? I’m home…”
Nothing.
Just my own voice coming back at me.
The place was stripped.
Furniture gone.
Walls bare.
Like we had never lived there at all.
Then I heard it.
Crying.
Upstairs.
I moved as fast as I could, pain cutting through the prosthetic with every step.
The nursery door was open.
My mother stood inside, holding one baby. The other was crying in the crib.
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