Angela darted from one end of the living room to the other, her shoes squeaking faintly against the polished wood floor. Her excitement bounced off the walls, a stark contrast to Evelyn, who still stood near the doorway, her trembling hands clutching the strap of her faded handbag as if afraid the place might vanish if she let go.
"Come on, Mom," Timothy urged with a small smile, gently guiding her inside. "Don't just stand there. This is your home now. Let me show you around."
Evelyn finally took a hesitant step forward. The cool air from the central AC wrapped around her, a far cry from the humid, fish-scented nights at the wet market. She rubbed her arms unconsciously, her gaze flicking across the sleek gray sofa, the marble dining table, and the shining appliances she had only ever seen in commercials.
Angela pulled open a door on the side hallway. "Brother! Look! A big bedroom!" she squealed.
