Sarah found herself brushing Emily’s hair.

  Or perhaps Daniel’s hair.

  Or both of their hair.

  Sometimes the distinction was less obvious than others. Two souls, two consciousnesses, one body—who would have ever thought that life could be so extraordinary yet so normal?

  Since Emily and Daniel had revealed their ability to switch who was in the “driver’s seat,” as they had started calling it, Sarah inexplicably found herself settling into a rhythm that would have once seemed impossible.

  Gradually, this ability to swap became less a novelty and more a natural part of life, though it never stopped fascinating her. Being able to speak to both her actual child and her adopted, invisible “adult” child was a gift she truly treasured.

  It was odd at first, seeing the subtle changes in posture, tone, and expressions, but over time, she grew accustomed to it, even fond of the playful dynamic they shared. Sometimes they switched in and out so quickly it was hard to make out who was speaking—especially when Emily decided to needle Daniel.

  At first, this had looked a little disconcerting—Emily practically seemed like she was arguing with herself—but time has a way of making anything feel normal.

  “You know, for a supposed adult, you get quite riled up by your sister, Danny…” Sarah commented as she brushed Emily’s hair.

  Daniel sighed, rubbing Emily’s temples in exasperation. “First of all, I wasn’t THAT old. I could have literally been your kid in this life, Mom. You know, if you’d had me when you were twenty-one or something. Besides, consciousness is basically energy... how relevant is age anyway?”

  “Uh-huh…” Sarah replied, giving him a knowing look, quickly using this opportunity to take a quick sip of her tea. “Still, she manages to get under your skin, huh?”

  Daniel groaned. “Mom, look, this dual-consciousness thing is complicated. It’s hard to explain to someone who”—he gestured at Sarah—“isn’t experiencing it, you know?”

  “A lot of thoughts, emotions and feelings flow into each other, some stuff is linked, but a lot of stuff is also separate. Like, I can keep thoughts to myself, or she can keep them to herself if her highness prefers it.”

  Then he growled, his frustration all the more amusing because it came out in Emily’s voice.

  “But when you have a pint-sized, scrunchie-obsessed, glitter-crazy, hyperactive, overly sassy gremlin as your sister who doesn’t know the definition of the word boundary, she finds a way to make her presence known very overtly whenever she well pleases…”

  A subtle shift occurred in Emily’s demeanor, and Sarah knew instantly that Emily had swapped back in.

  “Hey!” Emily protested. “That’s your rent for hogging real estate in my head! And I’m not a gremlin, you oversized human calculator that grew emotions!”

  This promptly led to another round of creative name-calling that left Sarah simultaneously flummoxed and endeared, struggling not to laugh.

  “ADHD gremlin!”

  “Anal-retentive mainboard driver!”

  “Glitter tornado with zero impulse control!”

  “Walking encyclopedia of useless trivia!”

  “Yellow-haired ditzy electric eel!”

  “Moppy haired walking fashion disaster!”

  “Okay, okay, stop, you two!” Sarah said, trying to catch her breath as she grabbed Emily (and through her, Daniel) in a forceful hug, giving them a little shake.

  “I know siblings fight, but your name-calling takes it to the next level!”

  This drew a shared laugh from both siblings, the noise blending in a way that only they could manage. As Sarah resumed brushing Emily’s hair, she felt a small surge of contentment through their shared bond.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Daniel murmured softly, or perhaps Emily, or perhaps both, the words barely audible but brimming with sincerity.

  Sarah paused, her heart swelling. “Always, kids. Always.”

  —

  Other days, the siblings showed their emotionally intelligent, protective, and tender sides.

  While Thomas ran his practice, Sarah worked part-time as a physical therapist at a nearby hospital. Despite the reduced hours, her job was demanding, with never ending bureaucracy, as well as the emotional toll of caring for patients in dire straits. Meanwhile at home, she juggled the invisible load of running a household, supporting Thomas, and keeping Emily and Daniel’s extraordinary secret.

  One day after a particularly grueling week of balancing home life with the punishing nature of her work life, Sarah sat down by the TV, her coffee trembling slightly in her hands. Trying to be the strong one, the nurturer, the guide, the disciplinarian, the secret keeper, the peacemaker - at home and work - it was just too much today. A small sob escaped her as her eyes began welling with tears of exasperation and exhaustion.

  From across the room, Emily and Daniel watched her quietly, unsure how to approach. But the sob spurred them into action, the inner guardian in both siblings awakening simultaneously.

  “Danny, Mom is in rough shape…” Emily said sadly through their shared space.

  “I see that, Em,” Daniel replied, his voice concerned. “I know this look—I saw it so many times in my old life. Sometimes on others, sometimes myself.”

  Before Emily could respond, Daniel sighed. “Can you imagine the load she’s carrying? Her job is hard, Em. And while Dad’s a good partner, running his practice means so much of the intangible load falls on Mom. Bills, repairs, cooking, cleaning...everything. And she can’t even talk to anyone about our secret. Vent, you know?”

  Emily’s voice was quiet. “She’s overwhelmed and lonely.”

  “Exactly,” Daniel agreed.

  Emily paused and frowned, feeling a familiar set of emotions creeping in from her brother. Guilt - it was seeping in. Unsurprisingly, she quickly added, “Hey, don’t start blaming yourself, Dummy. She loves you. I love you. This isn’t your fault.” She let a quiet sigh of relief as she felt the guilt beginning to recede. “You really do like taking blame on yourself for no reason…” she grumbled quietly, turning her attention back to their mother.

  After a pause, her voice brightened. “Why don’t we help her feel better? Come on, Romeo—you had a girlfriend in your last life. What do girls like?”

  Daniel chuckled despite himself. “Hey! I’m just glad you’re finally admitting you’re a shrimp, not necessarily a girl.”

  “Hey!” Emily shot back, realizing she’d cornered herself.

  “You’re right, though,” Daniel continued, still amused. “Switch out. I have an idea, but I need to drive for a sec.”

  Emily closed her eyes and instantly switched out, excited as Daniel’s ideas and emotions flowed into her.

  Together, they scurried to the kitchen. Daniel began carefully rummaging through the fridge and cabinets, while Emily’s advice guided him to cheese, pepperoni, sausage, crackers, chocolate, fruit, nuts and, of course, olives. He selected one of Sarah’s elegant silver platters and meticulously diced and arranged the items, creating an imitation charcuterie board.

  “Ooh! Fancy adult stuff!” Emily teased, chuckling. “Yeah, I can see from your memories—people used to go ape over this in your universe.”

  “Not sure if it’s as big here,” Daniel muttered, a soft laugh escaping him. “But, honestly, I just like the chocolates anyway.” He paused, his head slightly tilted, before deciding to take a single piece of chocolate much to Emily’s amusements.

  As Daniel munched, the siblings stared at the board, something still feeling off.

  “Shrimp, something’s missing. Something…critical. What is it?” Daniel murmured aloud, finishing his chocolate.

  “Wine! Crap, we forgot wine!” Emily exclaimed. “You and I don’t drink—can’t drink—so it’s been a while. Let’s grab some of Mom’s favorite wine. Preferably one that’s already open!”

  Daniel groaned. “I hope her coffee was decaf. Alcohol and caffeine? That could be a fun mix.”

  Moments later however, the siblings cautiously approached Sarah, carefully balancing the plate and wine glass.

  “Hey, Mom?” Emily called softly, trying to steady the setup.

  “Damn it,” Daniel grumbled internally. “These hands are so small.”

  Ignoring her brother’s muttering, Emily called again, a little louder. Her heart skipped a beat as Sarah looked up, her eyes red and tired, her posture radiating exhaustion.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Sarah said with a sniff, sitting up. “What’s going on? Which one of you is it?” Her gaze fell on the elaborate charcuterie board and wine glass. “What…are you doing with that?” she asked, sounding curious and appearing slightly concerned.

  “It’s me, mom - Emily. Danny and I feel that you’ve been burning the candle at both ends,” Emily began gently, but Daniel abruptly switched.

  “Mom! Grab this, please—it’s way heavier than it looks!”

  Startled, Sarah quickly stood, taking the wine glass as Emily repositioned the board with both hands.

  “That was close,” Daniel muttered internally, switching back.

  Emily huffed. “Well, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted…” She softened her tone. “Look, Mom. You do so much to keep this family running—the house, us, everything. Why don’t you, as Danny would say, chill with us? This is a little present to help you relax.”

  Sarah chuckled softly, wiping her eyes as she settled onto the sofa. Emily carefully placed the board beside her, sneaking a chocolate before scampering off to turn on the fireplace and dim the lights.

  The room grew calm, the atmosphere warm and inviting. The crackling fireplace, the aroma of fruit and wine, and the cozy lighting created a soothing ambiance.

  Sarah gingerly picked at the board, each bite easing some of the tension in her shoulders.

  “This is unexpected!” she said with a smile, nibbling on cheese, nuts, and olives. “And so fancy!” She reached over to ruffle Emily’s hair, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

  Taking a sip of wine, she leaned back with a sigh, still absentmindedly snacking. The room was quiet, heavy with unspoken words.

  “Shrimp, let me take the lead here, okay? Please?” Daniel asked Emily softly, his tone heavy with meaning. For once, Emily didn’t argue.

  Daniel gently switched out, his tone calm and steady. “Mom, Danny here - you want to talk about your day?”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. It’s not something I should burden my kids with,” Sarah replied, rubbing her temple. She reached out to tweak their nose, adding with a faint smile, “Even if one of them used to be an adult.”

  There was a slight pause before Daniel continued, his voice thoughtful. ““In my last life, I had a job. I had to run my apartment, pay bills, handle insurance, juggle debt, car stuff. The to-do list never seemed to end.”

  Sarah hesitated slightly, her attention now captured by his words.

  “At first, it wasn’t hard. I could handle it all without thinking, just hammer through the tasks. I figured it was normal—always being busy, always pushing forward. Everyone did it, right?”

  He picked up an olive, studied it for a moment, then sighed. “But after a while, it wore me down. I didn’t let myself feel it, didn’t let myself acknowledge it.”

  He looked directly at Sarah, Emily’s eyes carrying his memories. “And then there were the as*hol* customers, crappy bosses, sometimes jerk coworkers. The daily grind just…” He exhaled deeply. “Well there is a reason they call it a grind.”

  Sarah’s brow furrowed slightly at his language but she let it slide this time.

  “You’ve been carrying so much, Mom—the house, the marriage, Dad, and even our secret. You’re incredible. But you don’t always have to be perfect.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Daniel leaned forward slightly, hugging her with Emily’s body.

  In a unified voice, both of Sarah’s children said, “You’re already amazing. It’s okay to take a step back sometimes.”

  Sarah’s expression softened as she held them close, tears pricking her eyes.

  “Thank you, both of you,” she whispered, unsure of what more to say.

  As both her children—one body and all—held her gently, swaying softly, Sarah’s tears began to flow faster. A few more sobs escaped, but she struggled to let go completely, as if some unseen wall was holding her emotions back. The weight of years of stress, grief, and resilience had built a barrier, making vulnerability feel almost impossible.

  It wasn’t until Emily, and through her Daniel, began to sing that the cracks in her defenses truly began to form.

  “Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears,

  While we all sup sorrow with the poor,

  There's a song that will linger forever in our ears; Oh! Hard times come again no more,”

  The melody was soft, mournful, and achingly beautiful. Their voices—so intertwined yet distinct—wove together in perfect harmony. It was an old song, one Sarah had heard countless times but never truly felt until now. The lyrics carried the weight of years gone by, trials and tribulations to come - the relevance to her life undeniable.

  Tears began to fall faster now, as her children—her guardians in this moment continued the haunting, yet beautiful melody.

  “‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary, Hard Times, hard times, come again no more.”

  Emily and Daniel felt it—felt their mother—as if for just a moment, they too were connected to her soul, as they gently pulled Sarah’s exhaustion into the light. It was heartbreaking to see her like this: the strong protector, their best friend—their mother, who had carried so much.

  But they didn’t stop. They pushed past their own emotions and continued singing, their voices steady even as their hearts ached for her.

  “There's a pale weeping maiden who toils her life away,

  With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:

  Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,

  Oh! Hard times come again no more.”

  Sarah’s defenses finally shattered - the sobs she had been holding back broke through and poured with abandon, the gates of her emotions finally opened.

  Years of stress, heartbreak, and silent endurance—of being the glue that held everything together—rushed to the surface all at once.She cried for the burdens, for the endless roles she had to play, for the silent sacrifices, for the secrets she was destined to keep.

  Emily and Daniel didn’t say a word. They simply held her, swaying gently, their voices blending as they finished the song.

  The room grew quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and Sarah’s deep breathing. For the first time in a long time - she took a breath - a real breath - the weight in her chest lightened.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, soft but steady, as she kissed Emily’s hair—knowing Daniel could feel it too—and pulled them closer. “Thank you both my sweet kids.”

  And just like that - for one moment - the roles reversed. The mother who had been the rock found an unexpected refuge and solace in her children, a reminder that even the strongest ones sometimes need a shoulder to lean on.

  —

  Other days, the siblings—or one of them in particular—had a knack for getting into trouble.

  Sarah had long since realized that while Daniel had a mischievous streak, he typically guided Emily away from potentially problematic activities, occasionally letting her learn life the hard way. She couldn’t help but smile at their symbiotic relationship—the gentle pull and push, each soul knowing when to step forward or step back.

  However, Daniel did have one habit that never failed to get a rise out of Sarah: cursing.

  Sarah hated cursing with a passion. Neither sibling had been able to determine why even the mildest of strong language would cause a near complete persona change - from the sweet, gentle, firm mother to a potential hair-triggered overlord that could make the hardest criminal shudder in fear.

  Unfortunately, Daniel had inherited a colorful vocabulary from his past life. While Emily had inherited the same lingo - she had learned to keep it in check far, far better than her brother.

  One evening, the house had settled into its usual rhythm. Sarah was prepping for the week ahead in the kitchen while Emily was upstairs, organizing her school bag. All of a sudden, there was a loud thump, followed by a sharp screech, and then -

  “OW OW! GOD F****** D*MN IT, SHRIMP! THAT HURT LIKE A SON OF A B****!”

  The unmistakable tone and cadence of Daniel—very much in the driver’s seat—echoed through the house.

  “DANIEL!” Sarah called sharply from the kitchen, her voice carrying that no-nonsense tone that could halt anyone in their tracks. She put down her utensils and headed upstairs, her posture radiating “do not mess with me” energy.

  What greeted her in Emily’s room was an amusing sight: Emily—or rather Daniel—hopping on one foot, clearly irritated with life, holding the other foot like it had betrayed him, glaring at the schoolbag that his sister had clearly dropped on her foot and likely isolated herself in their headspace. However, the moment Daniel and Sarah’s eyes met, he froze, his expression shifting instantly to one of wide-eyed guilt.

  “Oh, no” he muttered, instinctively backing away while trying to shake the pain from his foot. “Fantastic, just fantastic…I’m screwed..”

  Sarah fought hard to keep a straight face, biting back a smile. Here was her invisible child, who had crossed a universe and faced unimaginable challenges, now hopping around like a scolded jackrabbit, utterly petrified of his adopted mother.

  “So, hey Mom… you heard that?” Daniel stammered, his tone defensive. “I’m sorry, it just really freaking hurt. It came out of nowhere. I don’t know what Em was doing but she dropped that cannonball of a schoolbag on our foot, and booted me out front to deal with the pain.”

  “Don’t ‘hey Mom’ me, sir,” Sarah said pointedly, her voice firm although she did understand Daniel’s frustration with Emily’s reverse hijack.

  Daniel winced. “Okay, okay,” he muttered, raising Emily’s hands in mock surrender. “Look, it came out by mistake. I didn’t even say the whole thing I was going to say. Can’t we call it a draw? Please?”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “A draw? Danny, you realize you’re walking around in the body of a ten-year-old.”

  She paused, the absurdity of her words hitting her, but she powered through.

  “Do you really think muttering that kind of language is appropriate?”

  Daniel’s posture stiffened slightly, his ego clearly prickled while still visibly nervous.

  “Mom, come on,” he said, his tone turning defensive. “I was an adult in my last life. You can’t expect me to unlearn everything in one fell swoop just because I’m you know…” He gestured vaguely at Emily’s body. “Riding shotgun?”

  Sarah’s gaze softened as she considered Daniel’s journey, yet she remained firm.

  “No, Daniel, I don’t expect you to unlearn everything,” she said. “But I do expect you to remember our situation. People don’t see you when you speak—they see Emily. And I’m sure we don’t want your sister getting strange looks because her ‘big brother’ couldn’t find a better way to express himself than letting a few adult-grade curses fly.”

  Daniel opened his mouth, as he clearly wracked his part of their mind for a reply, but then closed it. Sarah could see him work through the motions - the way he tilted their head, clearly processing, trying to find a justification, realizing that Sarah had a point, and then giving in. Sarah knew that he may have pushed back harder if it were just about him, but pointing out the impact on his little sister was an achilles heel - it could effectively shut down any argument.

  “Shrimp, I swear, can you not take advantage of the situation for one second? For ONE d—darn second?” Daniel grumbled aloud, catching himself as Sarah gave him another sharp look.

  “Ha! Emily’s teasing him,” Sarah said, stifling a laugh as she pieced together what was happening behind the scenes.

  With what felt like a superhuman effort, she stayed focused. Or at least pretended to.

  “See?” she said, raising an eyebrow knowingly. “This is exactly what I mean. What would that look like to someone else?”

  Sarah paused, considering how it would seem to an outsider. It wasn’t even the cursing that mattered—it was the context. Daniel must have realized the same thing because he opened his mouth as if to argue but quickly closed it, clearly not eager to poke the bear.

  Her voice softened unexpectedly. “I know it must be confusing, even hard, Danny. I can only imagine what it’s like to live this way. But you’ve got to find a balance between who you were and who you are now. For your sister and for you.”

  She trailed off, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied Emily’s eyes, which subtly reflected Daniel’s presence. The look was adult—confident—but there was something else.

  Nervousness. Far more than she would have expected.

  Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “What?” Daniel asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

  Sarah hesitated, then spoke slowly. “Sometimes, the way you react—it’s not what I’d expect from someone who used to be an adult. Like just now, for example.”

  She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she studied him further. “The defensiveness, the grumbling… It’s almost like…” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind. I’m overthinking it.”

  “Like what?” Daniel pressed, sharper now, clearly curious.

  Sarah waved a hand, brushing the thought away. “It’s just sometimes you remind me of my brother Jack when he was younger. It’s like part of you is still…” She trailed off again, unsure of how to articulate her thought. “Forget it. You’re just naturally mischievous.”

  “Anyway,” she continued after a beat, returning to the original topic, “how about we adjust to a world where you keep the swearing to a minimum?”

  Daniel sighed heavily, lifting Emily’s hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll try, okay? I’m already much tamer than I used to be, but old habits die hard.”

  Sarah chuckled, reaching out to ruffle their hair. “That’s all I ask. You’ve got a big heart, Danny. Just be more aware. Think about how your words affect the people around you—especially the people who love you.”

  For a moment, Daniel didn’t respond, his expression softening as her words sank in. Then, with a faint smirk, he said, “Okay how about ‘oh gosh darn son of a biscuit’? Or something 70s—would that work?”

  Sarah laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck, mister.”

  She turned to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder. “And Danny?”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled warmly. “You’re doing great. Both of you.”

  Daniel in turn beamed, like a kid presented with the biggest cup of ice-cream.

  —

  Unfortunately, while Sarah had eagerly embraced and adapted to her two children—visible and invisible, young and less young—Thomas, as it turned out, wasn’t ready to take the same leap.

  One quiet Sunday evening, the three (and one invisible one) of them sat together in the living room. Sarah, Emily, and, through her, Daniel exchanged glances. They had discussed this moment earlier and agreed: it was time to update Thomas about Emily and Daniel’s newfound ability.

  To reintroduce Daniel.

  “Thomas,” Sarah began gently, her tone calm but deliberate, “there’s something we need to talk to you about.”

  Thomas looked up from his book, surprised by Sarah’s serious tone. His eyes flicked to Emily, and as he put the book down, a frown crossed his face. Sarah could see that he had realized something significant, perhaps monumental, was about to be revealed.

  Emily shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter as she fiddled nervously with the edge of her shirt. She hesitated for a moment, stealing a glance at her mother, who gave her a small, encouraging nod.

  “Dad,” Emily started cautiously, her voice quiet but steady, “Danny and I… we’ve developed a new ability. It started a few weeks ago, and we’ve been practicing it.” She paused, gauging her father’s reaction carefully.

  Thomas didn’t respond immediately, his gaze sharpening as he processed her words. Sarah could almost see the wheels turning in his head—curiosity, worry, a flicker of skepticism, and perhaps a trace of frustration.

  Emily swallowed hard, glancing at Sarah again. Then, gathering her courage, she pressed on. “We can switch out - he can speak through me, come to the forefront, and then switch back. You can talk to both of us now.”

  Thomas stared at her, his expression unreadable as silence settled over the room.

  Emily bit her lip, her hands twisting the fabric of her shirt and glanced at her mother, her questions unsaid but clear to Sarah “What if he was angry? Disappointed? Hurt? Exhausted?”

  Her voice softened as she added, almost pleading, “We’ve gotten pretty good at it. If you want, we can show you.”

  For a moment, Thomas didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Emily.

  Before Sarah or Emily could say anything further, Thomas took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he were steadying himself under the weight of the revelation.

  “I can talk to him?” he asked finally, his tone cautious but edged with curiosity. “I could actually talk to him directly?”

  “Yes, Tom,” Sarah interjected softly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “They’ve gotten really good at it. They wanted to figure it out first, to perfect this ability before they showed it to you.”

  Thomas’s gaze shifted sharply to Sarah, his eyes narrowing. “You knew?” he asked, his tone clipped. “You’ve known about this?”

  “We asked her not to tell you, Dad,” Emily cut in quickly, her voice tinged with guilt. “It’s not on her. We made her promise. We wanted to understand this first.”

  “It’s been nice, Tom,” Sarah added gently, a small smile curving her lips as she glanced at Emily, silently acknowledging her bravery. “Getting to know both of them—Emily and Daniel. You’d like them. They’re both sweet, thoughtful… naughty.”

  Her eyes twinkled as she added the last word, making Emily smile despite herself. Somehow, Sarah knew Daniel, too, was quietly chuckling from within.

  “But why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Thomas asked flatly, his tone revealing a hint of hurt. “You could have at least tipped me off.”

  The room grew heavier as Sarah sighed and Emily looked at the ground, rocking her feet, Thomas looking to the side, his brow furrowed, frustration evident in his body language.

  “Because he’s been looking at me like a freak half the time.” Sarah heard Emily whisper, loud enough for only her mother to hear. The tone change was clear, Daniel had entered the room. “Why would we add fuel to the fire before we had a handle on this?”

  Sarah winced - this was the first time she had ever felt her adult child hurt, the sting evident even though he was whispering.

  Looking back at Thomas, Sarah sighed in relief as she realized he hadn’t heard Daniel’s whispering. Nevertheless, the hurt and irritation in his voice galvanized her - and she pushed forth more forcefully.

  “They were figuring it out, Tom,” Sarah replied firmly, her tone steady. “There’s no manual for this. I found out by accident. That’s all.” She paused, her voice softening. “You’ve also been… harder on the whole idea of Daniel, haven’t you? Can you blame them for being hesitant?”

  Thomas’s expression shifted, the words clearly striking a chord. Emily - no Daniel, looked directly at Sarah - his eyes wide, radiating both surprise - and warmth. Sarah smiled gently back, patting his hand to reassure him that his mother had his back.

  “I’m not ready for that, for this switching” Thomas said finally, interrupting the tender moment, his voice quiet. “I get it. I get why you waited. But I’m not ready to talk to… him. Not yet.”

  Sarah saw Emily, or perhaps Daniel’s heart sink, but she squeezed her shoulder gently, a reassurance meant for both her visible and invisible children. “One step at a time, kids,” she whispered, her eyes gentle.

  “It’s okay, Tom.” Sarah said softly, turning back to Thomas. “We didn’t want to pressure you. Just… whenever you’re ready.”

  Thomas leaned back, his gaze falling to his hands. The weight of the revelation clearly pressed down on him, but the edge of the moment had softened. He glanced at Emily, then at Sarah, and nodded slowly. “Thank you for telling me. For giving me time.”

  “At least you didn’t run for the hills…” Sarah replied gently, reassuringly.

  Thomas looked up, first glancing at Emily and then meeting Sarah’s gaze. “It’s not that I don’t care. I just need to process this. It’s a lot.”

  “We know,” Sarah replied, her voice warm and understanding. “No one’s rushing you.” She paused and then added “But I’ve seen them together, Tom. I’ve seen how much they care for you. For us. You don’t want to miss that. So whenever you are ready…”

  With that, Sarah stood up, stretching slightly as she glanced at the clock. “Jeez louise it’s late. Why don’t we call it a night?”

  Emily nodded, rising to her feet and leaning in to hug her mother. “Goodnight, Mom.” She hesitated for a moment before turning to Thomas, her expression a mixture of hope and caution. “Goodnight, Dad.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart,” Thomas said softly, his voice carrying a faint warmth that made Emily’s heart ache just a little less.

  “Goodnight kids” Sarah mouthed quietly her own eyes twinkling.

  —

  When the house fell quiet, Thomas remained seated, his thoughts swirling. In the silence, he found himself imagining the voice he’d heard all those years ago—the one that had saved his daughter. Maybe, someday, he would be ready to hear it again.