The house felt too quiet without Violet.

Just hours ago, you and Emily had stood at the airport, arms wrapped tightly around your second oldest daughter, trying desperately to memorize the feeling of her before she boarded a plane that would take her halfway across the world. Violet had always been fiercely independent, stubborn in the way that reminded you so much of Emily, but somehow you hadn't realized until now just how much it would hurt to let her go.

Ivy had stayed closer to home, choosing Yale just like Emily once had. She visited often, still called for advice on laundry or baking, still showed up unannounced with a bag of laundry and an even bigger smile. But Violet had set her sights on Oxford years ago, and she’d never wavered. You had watched her chase that dream with relentless determination. You were so proud — so, so proud — but your heart still ached knowing how far away she’d be.

All four of your girls had come to the airport to say goodbye. Even Hazel and Cora, your fourteen-year-old twins who had recently discovered that being too cool for mom and mom’s hugs was a necessary part of teenage life, had come. They tried to act casual about it, pretending not to be emotional, but you'd caught Hazel discreetly wiping her eyes and Cora refusing to let go of Violet’s hand until the very last second.

Now, the house felt huge and hollow. Emily had dropped onto the couch first, tugging you down beside her. Neither of you said much — just resting in the quiet, letting the enormity of the day settle in.

You were halfway drifting off when you heard soft footsteps, then felt the sudden thud as two bodies launched themselves onto you. You cracked an eye open to find Hazel sprawled across your legs and Cora squeezing into the space between you and the back of the couch.

"Hi," you said, voice rough with exhaustion and surprise.

"Hi," Hazel muttered, laying her head against your knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Cora didn’t say anything. She just buried her face in your side.

You blinked at Emily, who looked just as stunned but quickly melted into a soft, knowing smile. Her hand brushed lightly over Cora’s hair, then over yours.

It had been months—maybe longer—since either of the twins had willingly cuddled with you. Ever since middle school had taught them that showing affection toward your moms wasn’t “cool,” moments like this had become rare treasures.

"You okay?" you asked softly, running your fingers through Hazel’s hair like you used to when she was little.

Hazel shrugged. "It's weird without Vi."

"Yeah," Cora mumbled into your side. "Don't like it."

Your chest tightened. You pressed a kiss into Cora’s hair and felt her sigh quietly against you.

"I miss her too," you said gently. "But she’s going to do amazing things."

"We know," Hazel grumbled, squeezing your leg like she was trying to anchor herself there. "Still sucks."