Silence. Order. Control.
Dinner at 7:00. Dishes by 7:20. Laptop closed by 9:30—unless something “critical” came up, which it always did.
It wasn’t peaceful.
It was… managed.
Then she arrived.
Three suitcases. One box of old photo albums. And a quiet presence that didn’t match the chaos I had imagined.
No complaints. No demands.
No grand entrance.
She stepped into my house like she had always belonged there.
And somehow… that unsettled me more.