Margaret’s POV
The morning air was crisp and light, a perfect backdrop for a day I hoped would be the start of mending the fractures between my daughter and me. As I walked hand in hand with Mark toward the school gates, his laughter echoed in the quiet neighborhood. It was a sound I hadn’t heard nearly enough of, and I couldn’t help but smile, even as a heavy guilt tugged at my heart.
“Grandma,” Mark said, looking up at me with his innocent, curious eyes. “Do you think Mommy’s okay today?”
I faltered for a moment, unsure how to answer. The image of Amelia trembling in my arms last night, broken and terrified, flashed through my mind. I forced a smile, squeezing his little hand.
“She’ll be fine, sweetheart. Mommy is very strong,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
Mark beamed,
