They stayed like that for a long time.
Three women clinging to each other in the middle of the living room, tears drying slowly, grief and relief tangled together until it was impossible to tell them apart.
Clara could feel Margaret's shoulders shaking under her hands. Lily's fingers were still fisted in the back of Clara's shirt like she was afraid she might disappear.
Family.
Not enemies. Not strangers. Not misunderstandings.
Just family.
Eventually, their crying softened into quiet sniffles.
Margaret pulled back first, wiping her cheeks with the back of her sleeve. "Look at us," she muttered, attempting a small laugh. "All three of us crying like children."
Lily smiled weakly. "You started it."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did," Clara said softly.
The tension that had filled the room earlier had loosened into something warmer.
Something safe.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
All three froze.
Another knock followed, firmer this time.
