She looked at the car parked behind her, lacquered and gleaming. “Do you recognize it?” she asked quietly. “The first thing we built together. Well—bought. I sold my grandmother’s ring so you could make the down payment. You said it was a seed for our future.”

She hadn’t planned to say that part, but it felt right to plant the truth where everyone could see it.

They had started at a thrift-store kitchen table in their first apartment, eating noodles and sketching plans on napkins. Daniel dreamed big and fast; Claire believed in him the way people believe in sunrises. She took extra shifts at the bakery while he chased clients, and they laughed at the cracked ceiling and the tiny fridge and the way the hot water ran out at exactly eight minutes.