The morning sun sat steady over the Zone, same as it had for months now. No one worried about rain ruining crops or wind knocking down fences.
Food was there when you needed it, tools stayed in good shape, and most days passed without anyone raising their voice. That kind of steady life left room for small habits to grow.
It started with one person. Old Mara, who used to argue with the weather back in the Holdout days, began picking up smooth stones from the riverbank.
She lined them along her windowsill, each one labeled in tiny script: "Decided to stay," "Ignored the old fear," "Said yes to the extra bread." Nothing special about the stones themselves. They just felt right in her hand.
Word spread quietly because everything spread quietly here. Soon half the houses had their own collections. Raphael kept a shelf of tin cans filled with tea blends that never quite worked right.
