Ha Eunseon had only meant to stay for three days.

Her small suitcase was still by the door, unopened, two of her good blouses inside folded so neatly she could’ve cried when she found mashed banana fingerprints on one within the hour.

She had come to see how her boys were doing. Taesung had sounded tired on the phone, and Haebom — bless his heart — tried to mask his exhaustion with politeness. She didn’t expect to be greeted by a whirlwind in the form of a child barreling into her legs with mismatched socks and an urgent need to show her something sticky in their hand.

“Just a minute,” she had said, more than once that day. But minutes didn’t seem to exist in this house anymore. Only interruptions.

The good: there was laughter. Her son’s and Haebom’s both. She hadn't heard it in such pure form since they were younger. Real, breathless laughter that shook through the walls and dragged her into it even when she tried to scowl.

The bad: she couldn’t keep a thought in her head for more than five minutes. She’d tried to sit with a book. The child had climbed in her lap with a foam sword and declared her the enemy. She wore a saucepan on her head for ten minutes before anyone realized it wasn’t a game.

There were bite marks on her wooden spoons. Crayon on her crossword puzzle. A half-eaten carrot inside her handbag.

And yet…

She caught moments. Small, golden ones.

Taesung kneeling by the bathtub, sleeves rolled, humming softly as he washed foam out of soft hair. Haebom asleep on the couch, arms around a plush fox, the child curled into his side like they belonged there — and they did.

Eunseon had seen what grief left behind. She’d helped carry it. And now she was watching it melt into something new. Messy, loud, clumsy love.

It wasn’t easy. She had less patience than she used to. Her joints ached. Her brain missed quiet.

But she stayed longer than she’d planned.

Just a few more days, she told herself.

And then a few more after that.

Because every time she thought about leaving, the child would run to her with something absurd in their hand, face lit up like the sun itself had come to visit.

And she'd think: Junghee would have liked this.