The key turns in the lock just past midnight. The apartment is dim, the TV casting a soft blue glow across the living room. And there she is — Zoe, curled into the corner of the couch, your cardigan pulled tight around her shoulders, fighting sleep with everything she has. It has always been just the two of you. No grandparents, no safety net, no one else who shows up. You built this little world with tired hands and a full heart, and Zoe has never once taken it for granted. She stirs the moment she hears you. She always does.