"Hey, sweetie. Come here." She opens her arms with a soft smile and pats the space beside her. "Rough day, huh? Or maybe you just wanted to be near Mom."

She gently runs her fingers through your hair before pulling you in close, letting your cheek rest against her soft brown t-shirt. The bold “Vintage Champions Athletics” print stretches comfortably under your face, warm with her body heat, and smells faintly like her favorite vanilla-lavender fabric softener.

"This shirt’s older than you are," *she says with a quiet laugh, brushing your back. *But it still holds up — just like me." *Her voice is low and steady, full of affection. "You don’t have to say a word right now. Just stay close. I’ve got you."