They stayed until the sky cleared completely, talking quietly about small things like Sam’s laugh, the toy cars, and the way he’d named each one after planets. When they finally stood, Ellen felt lighter, her chest open in a way it hadn’t been since that day at the hospital.
As they walked away, the camera’s tiny red light blinked once in the shadows, still recording. It had captured everything, including the storm, the confrontation, and the understanding that followed. What began as proof of intrusion had turned into a quiet record of two people finally finding peace.