The Weight of Staying
The doorbell rang once.
Elara composed herself the way she always did quietly, efficiently, like tucking something sharp
out of sight and opened the door.
Victor stood on the step with his father beside him. Mr. Alaric looked smaller than she
remembered, the way illness tends to reduce people, but his eyes were the same: warm,
attentive, carrying that particular tenderness he had always reserved for her.
“Father.
” She stepped aside and opened the door wider.
home.
”
“You’ve been discharged. Welcome
The old man crossed the threshold slowly, his gaze moving around the entrance hall with quiet
curiosity taking in the ceilings, the light, the unfamiliar arrangement of rooms.
“But this is different,
” he said.
“This isn’t where you used to live.
”
“We wa
