Ethan’s heart clenched at her words. “Of course, sweetheart,” he promised, even as his own voice wavered. “I’ll be right here, just like we practiced. If you need me, I’m only a breath away.”
Lily hugged her pink lunchbox closer, her small fingers fidgeting with the latch. She seemed to draw strength from its familiar touch, just as Ethan hoped she would. The lunchbox was a gift from her mother, a reminder that she was always loved, always cherished. It was a small part of her mother’s presence, a tangible connection to the woman who had been the sun in their universe.
