When I arrived, the house felt wrong before I even stepped inside. It was quiet, empty, stripped of the life I had imagined returning to. Upstairs, I found my mother holding my crying daughters, her face filled with worry. Then I saw the note. Mara had left, saying she couldn’t handle the life ahead and wanted something different. The words were brief but heavy, reshaping everything in an instant. I sat there holding my daughters, letting the reality settle around me. In that moment, I made a promise—not just to them, but to myself—that no matter how difficult things became, I would be there. We would move forward together.