After the eventful evening, Coco found herself settling into her room with her mother, the two of them preparing for bed.
The air was heavy with exhaustion and something else Coco couldn't quite name— the memories of what had passed and what it would mean going forward playing in her mind.
They went through Coco's routine of getting ready for bed: washing up, changing into sleepwear, and tidying up.
Throughout all of this, Cleora remained noticeably quieter than earlier, her normally lively eyes contemplative and subdued as she watched Coco go about her night.
Once they were done, Coco promptly plopped onto her bed with a soft bounce, her body sinking into the familiar comfort of her sheets and Cleora, instead of joining her, took a seat at the edge.
Cleora's back was straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap— her expression unreadable in the dim light.
The silence between them stretched, heavier.
