Willow did not go home.
After Lorrlyne settled Zana into the guest bedroom and closed the door gently behind her, Willow remained standing in the hallway, her coat still draped over one arm, her bag resting at her feet where she had let it fall. The house around her was warm and quietly occupied, the kind of warmth that came from being lived in rather than curated. The faint scent of clean linen mixed with something herbal drifted from the kitchen, steady and familiar in a way that eased her breathing without her having to think about it.
It felt held in a way she had not realized she needed until she was inside it.
