The Sound She Always Made

Mia closed the laptop and sat back against the wall, the thought forming before she could stop it. During the pregnancy, she spent most evenings in the old apartment curled up in the armchair beside Nimbus’ terrarium. She would whisper, narrating her day, humming when words ran out.

The routine had been comforting, especially in the final months when her back ached and sleep was impossible. Nimbus often shifted closer to the glass when she spoke, resting his head near the corner closest to her. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it. But now, with Ava in the crib and Nimbus beside her, it somehow made sense.