“The Morning the Sirens Came to Say Thank You”

The sewing machine was set up that same afternoon.

Right at the kitchen table where Ethan used to drink his coffee before early shifts.

For a moment, I hesitated.

That table had held so many memories.

Laughter.

Arguments.

Silence after long nights.

But Mason didn’t hesitate.

He opened the box carefully, like it was something fragile.

Something earned.