I thought the house would be empty.
That was the picture in my head as I unlocked the door—silent rooms, untouched air, the kind of quiet that lets you fall apart without witnesses. I was already halfway into taking my shoes off when I heard movement from the kitchen.
A cupboard closing with the sound of water rushing.
My stomach dropped.
“Lyra?” my mom called.
Her voice sounded normal.
“I’m home,” I said, forcing my voice to match hers.
She stepped into the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing one of her old house dresses, hair pulled back, face bare. She looked… rested. Like she hadn’t spent the night carrying someone else’s emotions.
“You didn’t sleep at home,” she said, like she was just stating facts.
I froze for half a second too long.
“I—uh,” I started, th
