Outside, the garden stirred in the morning breeze. The foxgloves nodded slowly in the shade, and the leaves whispered something soft that only June mornings know how to say. The whole house felt like it was holding its breath—not worried, not scared, just aware that something was about to change. Steph walked in with mugs of tea, hair tied up and keys already in her pocket. She looked at me, then at the two girls sitting in a quiet nest of toast crumbs and plush limbs. "You packed her spare socks?" "Three pairs." "And the emergency fruit bars?" I patted my chest. "Right here, close to the heart." She smiled and set the mugs down.

"Well then," she said, voice lighter than it had any right to be. "I suppose it's time." Tima looked up at me, then back at her hippo, then nodded once—serious, ready, full of trust. Eira's spoon clinked in her bowl. Her eyes didn't leave the toast crumbs. The sun kept coming in through the window, as if the world wanted to stretch this morning just a little bit longer. And I let it. Just a little bit longer.

We walked the long way, past the bakery with the painted window and the florist that always smelled too much of carnations. The pavement was still warming from the night, and the low sun made everything look softer than usual—like someone had turned the world down a notch to let us ease into the day. Steph walked beside me, sipping from a takeaway cup, the girls skipping ahead in uneven bursts—half-walk, half-dance, the way small children move when they haven't yet decided if the day is serious or not. Tredegar Park was already awake.

Sparrows chattered in the trees overhead, and a lawnmower buzzed lazily in the far corner near the cricket pitch. The air smelled of cut grass and warm tarmac. The kind of scent you forget until it comes back all at once, hitting something in your chest you didn't know was waiting.

Tima and Eira ran straight for the old fountain—the one that never really worked, but still managed to collect enough rainwater and imagination to be magical. They stood on the wide stone edge, arms spread, pretending to be birds. Hoppy was perched nearby like a small, unblinking lifeguard. "Caw!" shouted Tima, flapping dramatically. Eira followed suit. "Caw-Caw!"