I inserted the key into the brass lock of the front door.

It turned with a clean, familiar click.

We stepped inside, the warmth of the hallway wrapping around us.

The air smelled faintly of dust and old wood, but it was ours.

Jake took Owen from his car seat and held him up, looking around the living room.

“We have some cleaning to do,” Jake said, pointing to a dusty bookshelf.

“We have all the time in the world,” I replied.

I walked to the kitchen and turned on the tap, watching the clear water run into the sink.

Through the window, I could see the bare branches of the oak tree in the backyard, waiting for spring.

Jake came up behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder as Owen giggled, reaching for the water.

We were finally home, and the doors were locked from the inside.