The afternoon sunlight spilled gently through the tall windows, painting golden patterns across the floor.
Nine-year-old Luca sat sprawled on the soft carpet of his study, humming a little tune as he lined up wooden soldiers in neat rows. His eyes shone with mischief as he set one toy on top of another, toppling them down with exaggerated sound effects.
"Boom! Sir Knight falls to the great dragon!" he declared proudly, grinning as though the victory was his alone.
A breeze carried laughter through the open door—Vincent, still serious even at thirteen, reading at the desk by the wall while pretending not to watch. Little Lisa, no older than four, was toddling about in the corridor, singing to her doll. Somewhere down the hall, Selene's voice floated faintly as she spoke with Darian.
Everything was safe. Familiar. Warm.
