From his concealed vantage point, Miles watched as Vanessa interacted with his three children. Under the guise of playing, she seemed warm and attentive, laughing at Aaron’s jokes, admiring Naomi’s drawings, and listening patiently to Elias’ whispered stories. Miles wanted to believe that this was genuine, that Vanessa was the embodiment of kindness he had once imagined her to be. Yet, something intangible gnawed at his instincts, urging him to look deeper.
The morning sun filtered through the large windows, casting a golden glow across the living room where the children now gathered, building a fort with cushions and blankets. Vanessa participated, her laughter mingling with theirs, creating a tableau of domestic bliss that whispered promises of a future Miles had almost given up hoping for.
But then, as the morning unfurled into afternoon, Miles noticed subtle shifts. Vanessa’s smiles wavered when she thought no one was watching. Her patience thinned, her responses growing curt each time Naomi asked for help or Elias sought reassurance. Perhaps it was fatigue, Miles thought, as he continued his silent vigil. His heart clutched at any plausible excuse.
