The small living room, filled with remnants of George’s life, welcomed the newcomers. Daniel surveyed the room with a discerning eye, while Lily, her teddy bear clutched tightly, wandered to the photo of Marianne on the mantel.
“Your wife?” Lily asked, her voice a sweet, innocent melody.
George nodded, a soft, nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “Yes, that’s Marianne.”
Daniel cleared his throat, drawing George’s attention back. “Mr. Müller, you mentioned wanting to list the house immediately?”
George nodded again, more firmly this time. “Yes. I’ve decided it’s time for a change.”
The decision felt less like a betrayal to himself and more like a reclaiming of his autonomy. As Daniel walked through the house, taking notes and snapping pictures, George felt a sense of clarity wash over him. This was, perhaps, the best decision he’d made in a long time.
