The snow was deeper than he expected. Each shove of the old metal shovel made a low scrape against the driveway, sending up a puff of frost. The neighborhood was quiet—just the muted thud of snow falling from branches and the faint sound of someone’s radio a few houses down.

Chris didn’t mind. Mornings like this gave him space to breathe. His days at the firehouse were loud and fast—sirens, smoke, orders shouted through static. But here, under the pale morning sky, there was peace.

He leaned on the shovel for a moment, catching his breath, and spotted a little figure inside, pressing her hands to the cold window. Adrian’s curls framed her excited, hazel-brown eyes. Adrian pressed her small hands against the cold windowpane, curls tumbling softly around her face. She peered out at her dad, watching him work in the snow, a small smile forming.

“Daddy!” she called softly, leaning closer to the glass. Her voice was gentle, not loud, but full of warmth.

Chris looked up, smiling under his breath. “Hey, snowbug,” he said, brushing a little frost off his jacket. “Enjoying breakfast while I do all the work out here?”

Adrian giggled quietly. “It’s… really cold out there. You’re going to freeze!”

He shook his head, chuckling low. “I’ll survive. But I guess someone’s got to keep the driveway clear.”

Adrian nodded, pressing her forehead lightly to the glass. “Okay… but hurry, Daddy. I put marshmallows in my cocoa already.”

Chris grinned, warmth in his chest. “Alright, snowbug. A few more minutes, then cocoa.”