Berkeley, California.
Evening sunlight slanted through the tall windows of a quiet suburban home, painting amber streaks across polished hardwood floors. The soft sound of a jazz record filled the living room, blending with the gentle laughter of a family.
Benjamin Scott sat on the couch, his arm wrapped around his wife, Sofia. Her long dark hair brushed against his shoulder as their three-year-old son wriggled happily in her lap, squealing whenever Ben tickled his tiny ribs. The boy's laughter was the kind that could melt the coldest heart. It was pure, infectious and untouched by the world's noise.
Ben smiled warmly, eyes creasing at the corners, enjoying the simple and peaceful life he now has.
Sofia brushed a stray lock from her son's forehead and looked up at her husband. "You're smiling again. That's a good sign."
"Am I not allowed to?" Ben chuckled, kissing her temple. "I'm a happy man, Sofie. You and this little rascal are all I need."
