MATILDA'S POV
Home didn’t feel like home anymore.
It felt like a waiting room.
Like something was coming for it… and we were just sitting here pretending we didn’t hear the footsteps.
I pushed the door open quietly, hoping—stupidly—that maybe Mom would be asleep.
She wasn’t.
Of course she wasn’t.
She sat on the couch, knees pulled slightly together, hands clasped so tightly in her lap it looked painful. The TV was on, but muted. Just flashing colors dancing across her face like a distraction she wasn’t even watching.
Her head snapped up the second she heard me.
“Matilda.”
That one word held too much. Relief. Fear. Questions she hadn’t asked yet.
I forced something like a smile. It felt wrong on my face.
“Hey, Ruth.” I always called my mom by her first name.
She stood immediat
