Chapter 6 - The Sun Behind the Windows
One year later.
The white two-story house near Savannah was no longer just a flawless shell built for appearance. It was a home.
The pale lavender paint in the guest rooms had been replaced with soft, warm tones. Photos of Allison—the good memories, the bright summer days before her illness—were back on the mantlepiece in the living room, no longer hidden away in boxes out of guilt or discomfort. Maisie could look at her mother’s smile every day and know she was loved by both the parent who was gone and the parent who was here.
It was five o'clock on a Friday afternoon.
Derek stood at the kitchen counter, cutting fresh strawberries into a glass bowl. On the stove, a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup was simmering, filling the room with a rich, comforting aroma.
The front door opened, and the sound of small, energetic footsteps echoed down the hallway.
"Daddy! I'm home!"
Maisie came running into the kitchen, wearing her kindergarten uniform—a dark blue plaid skirt and a white polo shirt. She threw her backpack onto the floor and leaped straight into Derek’s arms.
He caught her easily, swinging her around in a circle as she giggled softly. Her cheeks were round, flushed with heat and health, her brown eyes bright and sparkling with life.
"How was kindergarten, sweetheart?" Derek asked, setting her down on the counter and handing her a strawberry.
"We drew pictures of our families today," Maisie said proudly, taking a big bite of the fruit. "My picture won a star on the board."
"Did it?" Derek smiled, leaning against the counter. "What did you draw?"
"I drew our house," she said, her small voice full of warmth and confidence. "And I drew you holding my hand under the big oak tree."
Derek looked at his daughter—at the healthy color in her face, the steady strength in her hands, and the pure, unclouded trust in her eyes. The guilt of what he had almost missed would always stay with him, a quiet scar on his conscience, but it was a scar that served a purpose. It reminded him every single day of what truly mattered.
"That sounds like a beautiful picture, Maisie," Derek whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead. His skin met hers—warm, soft, and full of life.
May you like
"Come on," Derek said, taking her hand as they walked toward the living room together. "Let's go look at the sunset from the porch."
They walked out onto the wide front porch together as the evening light softened into gold and purple across the Savannah sky. The house behind them was dark no longer; every window gave off a deep, warm glow, radiating out into the quiet night—a light that would never be allowed to go dim again.
