After breakfast that morning, Elena and her mother worked side by side, washing the dishes. The clinking of plates and the gentle hum of running water filled the air, a comforting routine they had shared countless times.
Elena handed a rinsed plate to her mother, who began drying it with a towel. “You seem... different this morning,” her mother said, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.
“Different how?” Elena asked, though she had a good idea where the conversation was headed.
Her mother shrugged, setting the plate aside and reaching for another. “Lighter. Happier. It’s Adam, isn’t it?”
Elena’s cheeks flushed. “Maybe.”
Her mother smiled knowingly but didn’t press. Instead, she focused on scrubbing a stubborn stain on a pan. “So... did you tell him?”
Elena stilled for a momen
