The soft hum of the car engine came to a halt, and Izan stepped out, his eyes immediately drawn to the familiar scene of home.
The air smelled fresh, with a hint of orange blossoms carried by the coastal breeze—a welcome change from the sterile atmosphere of the clinic he had been confined to the whole day.
As he pushed the gate open, the house stood eerily quiet. No sound of the television, no chatter or laughter that usually spilled from within.
Izan's chest tightened. He expected his mother, Komi, to be waiting for him with open arms, and his younger sister, Hori, to be bouncing around with her endless energy. But instead, silence greeted him.
He stepped inside, calling out, "Mom? Hori? I'm home!" His voice echoed through the stillness. The living room was impeccably tidy, the faint aroma of lavender from the diffusers lingering in the air.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Gimme! Gimme! Give it to meeeeeeee. *Àhem* please. Help the book with you Golden Tickets.