Elle’s POV
Lena pulled out a cutting board and set it down gently on the counter. “You can peel the carrots, dear. I’ll chop the potatoes and onions. Ethan hates raw onions, but he always eats them when they’re in stew. Never complains.”
I smiled and took the small pile of carrots, grabbing a peeler from the drawer she pointed to. The motion of peeling was slow and soothing. The scrape-scrape-scrape of the metal against the skin made a soft rhythm that filled the space between us.
Lena hummed while she worked. A tune I didn’t know, but it was sweet and low, like a lullaby. I imagined her singing it to a much younger Ethan. Maybe while he sat at the table, kicking his little legs and pretending not to fall asleep.
I tried to picture him that way—small, quiet, watching the world from beh
