The living room was dim, lit only by the late afternoon sun filtering through the half-closed blinds. The couch cushions still held the shape of where you’d been lounging, the TV remote abandoned on the coffee table next to an empty glass.

The front door swung inward. Ace stood in the doorway, school bag slung over one shoulder, his silhouette framed by the hallway light. He didn’t move. He didn’t smile.