Evelyn, not wanting to quit, said, “I wasn’t finding your hair all over my house anymore; I’ll have to start cleaning the vacuum out again..”

Lillian laughed out loud, “Aaa Juni’s long black hair, always so wild and untamed, just like her free spirit!”

The faint scent of cinnamon lingered in the air, a remnant of earlier baking, but the rich aroma of coffee was noticeably absent. The kitchen, usually animated with warmth and activity, felt unusually still, as if holding its breath.

“I’ll make the coffee!” Jacob announced, hopping up quickly from his seat.

Lillian smiled proudly at her son as he dashed toward the kitchen, his small feet padding softly against the worn hardwood floors, each step resounding with family history. “Yeah, he loves making it now that he can reach over the counter.”

Evelyn nodded, her gaze following Jacob fondly. “He knows it’s his Poppop’s favorite.”

“The Valenca go-to,” Lillian added with a nostalgic sigh, her fingers idly tracing the delicate pattern on her teacup, the grooves a familiar touchstone.