Yet, a week later, our home was engulfed in flames.
As the inferno intensified, the heat reached a critical point, igniting the gas tank tucked away in our home.
By the time someone managed to alert the firefighters, who arrived to douse the raging flames, it was already too late. Mitchell and Poppy, trapped within the inferno, had succumbed to the fire's merciless embrace.
"Quinn, where did your thoughts wander off to? You seem lost in your own world."
"It's nothing. I just realized that three years have passed in the blink of an eye, and our daughter has grown so much," I replied, shaking off the shadow of my past.
I reached out to gently touch Poppy's head, but she recoiled, ducking away from my touch. Her eyes, filled with an unfamiliar distance, told me she no longer found comfort in my closeness.
"Quinn, I've been the one taking care of Poppy these past three years. It's only natural she's a bit distant. Give her time," Mitchell comforted me.
I nodded, understanding the rift that time and circumstance had created.
When I was back at home, the photograph of our family hanging on the wall drew me into a pensive silence.
A crucial realization dawned on me, prompting a message to a trusted friend, Rebecca Colbert, requesting her assistance.
A mere day had passed when my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages and photos from Rebecca flooded in, confirming my darkest suspicions.
I played my part, acting as if the tragedy of my past life was but a distant nightmare until the day the fire was meant to consume everything.
On that fateful morning, I told Mitchell, "I need to step out for a bit because I have something to take care of."
He didn't press, simply replying, "Alright, but come back soon."
I met Rebecca at a coffee shop. Three years had stretched between us, but our conversation bridged the gap of time with words.
When we were engrossed in our conversation, time slipped away unnoticed. It wasn't until a call from a neighbor shattered our tranquility.
The voice of my neighbor crackled through the phone with a palpable sense of urgency, "Quinn, you need to come back immediately. Your house is on fire, and there's been an explosion!"
"I'll be right there," I responded.
After I hung up the phone, Rebecca looked at me with concern etched on her face. "What's wrong?"
"My house is on fire," I stated.
"Oh no! Let's go back right away!"