I sank into my chair, the tension leaking out of me until I was just a shell. “Can he… is he going to be okay?”

“He’s starting school in a new district on Monday,” she said. “His grandmother says he’s starting to talk again. He’s already asked for a book about dinosaurs.”

I hung up the phone and looked out the window at the quiet street. The sun was coming out. It wasn’t a magic fix. I knew he had a long road ahead of him, and I knew the world wasn’t a perfect place. But for the first time in months, I felt like the weight I’d been carrying had finally shifted.

I went back to work the following Monday. When I drove past the house on Vine, it was empty. The basketball hoop was gone. I kept driving, my hands steady on the wheel, watching the road ahead. I wasn’t the same person I was a month ago, but I knew one thing for sure. I would never, ever ignore the quiet again.