The snow fell in soft, silent waves, blanketing Mayfield in a hush that felt almost sacred. Rose’s car sliced through the stillness, tires crunching over the icy road as she drove away from Margaret’s crumbling farmhouse. In the backseat, Ellie hummed to herself, her small fingers tracing the glittering letters on the soccer poster she’d spent hours crafting. The words “TEAM ELLIE” sparkled under the dim glow of the streetlights, each letter painstakingly outlined in gold glue and sequins.
“Mommy, do you think Jack Carter will like my poster?” Ellie asked, her voice bright and hopeful. She leaned forward, her breath fogging the window as she pressed her nose to the glass.
Rose tightened her grip on the wheel, forcing a smile. “Of course, bug. He’ll love it.”
Ellie flopped back into her
