Life did not announce itself as different.
There was no moment that arrived with certainty, no line crossed that made Aria stop and say, This is where it changes. Instead, the days continued quietly, layering themselves one on top of another, until she realized she was no longer measuring time by fear or anticipation.
She woke before the sun most mornings now, not because something pressed at her chest, but because her body simply rested well. Sleep came easily and left gently. She would lie in bed for a few moments, eyes open, listening to the house breathe. The soft creak of settling wood. Luca's steady rhythm beside her. A distant car passing outside.
Once, silence had felt dangerous. It had meant something was about to break.
Now it meant nothing at all.
