The Unborn Prophecy

SIENNA

The house is empty now, no laughter of Leonardo to fill the airwaves. It’s been three weeks since we left him in Switzerland, and even with our daily video calls, the silence is deafening. I go in his room, touch his toys that are gathering dust, smell his scent growing fainter.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” says Teo from the doorway, his voice kind but concerned.

“I miss him