Chapter 14 - Footsteps on the Hardwood Floor
The front door swung open with a familiar, soft click, admitting a square of golden afternoon sunlight into the entryway. Claire stepped across the threshold, setting down her tan leather shoulder bag just as she had done five long months ago. The house smelled of David’s coffee, lemon wax, and the comforting cedar scent of home.
From the far end of the hallway, past the open bedroom doors, came the immediate sound of scuffling feet. Claire stopped dead in her tracks, holding her breath. Lily appeared around the corner, her white Mary Janes skidding slightly on the polished oak. For a fraction of a second, the little girl froze, her hazel eyes widening in disbelief as she took in the sight of her mother standing in the light.
Then, with a joyous, uninhibited squeal that shattered every remaining trace of silence, Lily sprinted down the corridor. Her arms were outstretched, her pink ribbons flying behind her like banners in the wind. There was no hesitation, no doubt, and no fear—only the pure, instinctive momentum of love seeking its rightful home.
