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Summary
The couch she sits on is not theirs. She wouldn't even be sitting on it if Will were still alive. The thought settles like lead in her stomach as she glances toward the stairs, where Henry and Michael sleep soundly in their rooms. The treehouse in the backyard still bears Will’s careful hands. The kitchen tiles still echo arguments that ended in laughter. Emily’s jacket lies draped over the armrest, her shoes kicked off beside JJ’s, and the intimacy of it all suddenly feels borrowed. Stolen from a life that was never meant for her.