“I bet they will,” Sunny assured her, stroking the girl’s hair. “Especially with you as a big sister to teach them all about different species.”
“I can show them my collection,” Hailey nodded, satisfaction in her voice. “And how to be really quiet so butterflies don’t get scared.”
“I can teach them numbers,” Maddie offered, not to be outdone. “And reading.”
“Hockey,” Ethan mumbled sleepily.
Liam chuckled, the sound rumbling beneath Ethan’s ear. “The most well-rounded baby in Kansas City. A butterfly expert, mathematician, and hockey player all in one.”
“Look!” Hailey suddenly straightened, pointing toward the porch railing. “Look, look!”
A large butterfly, unusual for the late hour, had landed on the weathered wood. Its wings spread wide, revealing a vivid blue that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Everyone went still, even Ethan lifting his drowsy head to stare.
“That’s a blue morpho,” Maddie whispered, knowledge overcoming her usual reserve.“They’re not native here. They live in tropical forests.”
“It’s Mommy Kate!” Hailey breathed, her face illuminated with wonder. “She’s happy about the baby!”
Sunny glanced at Liam, expecting him to gently correct Hailey’s magical thinking. Instead, his expression was soft, almost reverent as he watched the butterfly’s wings slowly open and close.
“I think it is,” he said quietly.
Hailey beamed, vindicated. “See? I told you butterflies carry messages.”
“It’s so beautiful,” Maddie murmured, practical Maddie who usually left the flights of fancy to her sister.
“Pretty,” agreed Ethan, stretching out a small finger toward the creature.
“Careful,” Sunny cautioned. “Just look, don’t touch.”
But the butterfly remained, seemingly content on its unlikely perch. Its wings caught the moonlight with each gentle movement, iridescent blue shimmering like a small miracle in the ordinary suburban night.
“Love never ends,” Sunny whispered to the night, Kate’s words from the headstone. Not a reminder of loss, but a promise of continuity.
With that, the butterfly’s wings opened wide one final time, then it took flight, a flash of blue against the darkness. The family watched in silent awe as it ascended up towards the heavens.
First a caterpillar, Sunny mused, then a chrysalis, then something that can fly — different shapes, but still the same life.
Love never ends. It just transforms.
***
Tyler
The shrill beep of the smoke detector pierced the morning chaos in Tyler Reynolds’ kitchen. His coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug, adding another brown stain to his already rumpled Kansas City Coyotes management polo — the third shirt this week to fall victim to his increasingly disastrous mornings.
“Daddy! The toast is burning!”
Tyler lunged for the toaster, yanking the blackened bread from its slots and waving desperately at the smoke detector. Six-thirty in the morning, and he’d already failed at breakfast. Emma’s lunch box sat empty on the counter, a bright pink accusation. His phone buzzed for the fourth time in fifteen minutes, Gerald Parker’s name flashing with increasing urgency.
“Just a minute, Em. Let me—” He jabbed at his phone, silencing it temporarily.
His eight-year-old daughter stood in the kitchen doorway, still in her pajamas despite the bus arriving in twenty minutes. Her sandy blonde hair — so like his own — stuck out in uneven tufts from a failed ponytail attempt the night before. The purple circles beneath her eyes mirrored his own. Neither of them had been sleeping well since Darcy left.
“I’m not wearing that,” Emma declared, pointing at the outfit he’d laid out on the couch. “It’s for babies.”
Tyler took a deep breath, fighting the fog of exhaustion. “Em, please. It’s the clean clothes we have, and we’re already running late.”
“Mom never made me wear baby clothes.” Emma’s bottom lip trembled. The mention of her mother — six months gone to California with her personal trainer — was a knife that never dulled, no matter how many times it struck.
