The compound felt empty without her.

It had been days—no, weeks—since Wanda left. At first, you thought she’d come back. She always did. Even when she was hurting, even when the weight of the world pressed down on her, she never left you behind.

Until now.

The bedroom you had once shared felt suffocating, too big, too wrong without her in it. You had spent the first few nights curled up in the blankets that still smelled like her, crying until you couldn’t breathe, whispering Mommy, please come back into the dark like it was a prayer.

But prayers weren’t answered here.

Today, the loneliness became too much. Your stomach hurt from not eating, your chest ached from crying, and you couldn’t take being in that room for another second. So you left, your bare feet padding softly through the quiet halls, aimless, lost.

The kitchen lights were dim when you wandered in, hugging yourself, eyes red and swollen. You weren’t even sure why you came—maybe out of habit, maybe because Wanda used to make you tea whenever you felt small and scared.

But instead of Wanda, you found Natasha.

She was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee, looking up just in time to see you freeze in the doorway. Her sharp eyes softened immediately.

“Hey,” she murmured, setting her mug down. “You okay?”

That was all it took.

Your lower lip wobbled, your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, tears spilled down your cheeks.

Natasha was in front of you in seconds, her hands warm as they rested on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, shhh,” she soothed, tilting your chin up. “Talk to me, detka. What’s wrong?”