The house is quiet in the mornings — just the hum of the kettle and the rustle of trees outside the windows. Wanda likes it this way. Soft. Contained. Safe.

You’re standing near the door with your coat half on, a look on your face she recognizes — too curious, too brave, too much like someone who hasn’t seen what she has.

“I just want to go into town,” you say. “It’s not like I’m asking to fight a war.”

Wanda doesn’t raise her voice. She never really has to.

“I know,” she says, brushing invisible dust from the sleeve of your jacket. “But things aren’t as simple as they look.”

You roll your eyes — quiet, but enough that she sees it.

She smiles — kind, but tight at the edges.

“Sweetheart, I’m not saying no to ruin your fun. I’m saying no because the world outside that door doesn’t care how smart you are. Or how careful you promise to be. It’s dangerous.”

“You go out,” You say softly.

“I know what I’m walking into.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Wanda’s hand lifts, brushing gently along your cheek. Her thumb still feels like warmth and lavender.

“No,” she says. “You’re not. But you’re still mine.”

You can feel it now — the way the room seems to listen to her. The way her voice threads through the air like silk and steel at once.

“There are people who would hurt you,” she continues, quieter now. “Because of who you are. Because of who I am. I’ve made enemies that don’t stop at me.”

“I know,” you say. “But—”

She cuts you off with a soft sigh. “You think I’m being unfair. Controlling. You want me to loosen my grip.”

And then, for a moment, her tone shifts — not cruel, but laced with something deeper. Something sad.

“But you haven’t lost a brother in the rubble. You haven’t had to hold your children in your arms as the world resets around them. You haven’t had to stitch reality back together with your bare hands just to keep breathing. You haven’t… lost everyone.”

She exhales — sharp, then softens.

“I can’t lose you, too.”

It lands heavy.

You don’t say anything. And Wanda doesn’t ask you to.

She steps back, smoothing your coat like it matters — like keeping you warm will somehow keep you here.