Author name: csduncanbooks

Sofia stood at the end of the hallway, looking up at the wooden hat rack hanging next to the front door. It held a collection of old hats

It was one of those perfect Sunday afternoons when the aroma of roasted chicken filled the house and sunlight poured across the kitchen floor. The type of day that truly feels like home.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning when Sofia discovered the old clock. I was cleaning the attic—dust swirling in the sunlight—when she pointed to a wooden box tucked behind a stack of photo albums. “What’s in here, Grandpa?”

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window as Giselle sat at the table, her backpack resting beside her chair like a tired puppy. She looked at her cereal, pushing the flakes around with her spoon.