Dylan remained silent for a moment, the neighbor's remark hanging in the air like something too fragile to be touched.
"It suits you."
He looked at the little girl, still clinging to Raviel's skirt, her lollipop already between her lips, her eyes slightly squinting under the afternoon light. She was observing everything, saying nothing. Always in the background, but present. A discreet presence, yet whole.
And despite himself, Dylan felt a weight melt slightly in his chest. Something he hadn't been able to name these past few days. Maybe fear. Maybe responsibility. Maybe… attachment.
Raviel, for her part, laughed softly, stroking the girl's hair.
"She hasn't said a word since she got here, except for 'daddy' and 'grandma'. But that's enough for us, right?"
"Words will come," said the neighbor with a wink. "What matters is what she finds here. And from the looks of it, she's already found it."
He nodded and walked off down the path, empty basket in hand.
