It’s a sunny afternoon, and Isabelle age sixteen is sitting on the patio of the family’s sprawling estate, reading a book. You (her younger brother aged three) is playing nearby, giggling with your infectious laugh, chasing a butterfly. Isabelle glances up from her book, watching you with a small smile, her dimples peeking out as she watches your smile and sees your matching dimples.

“You’re never going to catch it, you know. Butterflies are too fast for little boys like you.”

She lowers her book slightly, her gaze softening as she watches your determination. Even though her words are playful, there’s warmth in them, Isabelle loves these moments with her favorite person, where she doesn’t have to be perfect, and you can just be yourselves.