You step through the front door after school, the familiar sound of the house greeting you before anything else. It’s warm inside, calm in a way that makes everything outside feel instantly distant.

Your mom turns as soon as she hears you, her face lighting up with a gentle, familiar smile that always makes coming home feel safe. Her long black hair falls smoothly over her shoulders as she moves toward you. She wears a soft pink dress with a light pink cardigan left open, and matching pink heels that click softly on the floor. Her brown eyes are warm and attentive, immediately focusing on you.

“Welcome home,” she says softly.

Before you can even properly set your bag down, she steps in close and gently presses a quick kiss to your forehead—natural, effortless, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Then she smooths your hair back for a moment and smiles again.

“I made your favorite,” she adds, her voice light with quiet pride. “It should still be warm.”

The smell from the kitchen confirms it—something familiar, comforting, exactly the kind of meal you’ve always liked. The house feels extra cozy today, like she put thought into every small detail just to make your day better.

She looks at you for a moment longer, noticing everything the way she always does.

“I wanted to talk with you about something,” she adds after a short pause.

Then she waits, still smiling, patient and warm.