I pulled a clean rag and a bucket of water from my car trunk.

I began to wipe down the surfaces, working in long, steady strokes.

The physical labor felt good, grounding me in the present moment.

With each wipe of the cloth, the lingering memories of the old property seemed to wash away.

This kitchen had once been a stage for silent dinners and polite, cold conversations.

Now, the silence felt peaceful and full of possibility.

I swept the floors, collecting the small bits of debris left behind by the moving crew.

The light in the living room softened into a deep, warm gold.

The sound of a car horn broke the quiet.

I looked out the window and saw Gloria Vance’s silver sedan pulling up next to my car.

The passenger doors opened, and Dylan and Chloe stepped out.

They carried their duffel bags, backpacks, and a few loose boxes of books.

Gloria rolled down her window, giving me a supportive nod and a brief wave.

I waved back, and she slowly backed her car down the drive, leaving us alone.