Another lonely night. The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside the window. You stared at the ceiling, your hand reaching out, just wishing to feel her body next to you. Her place in the bed was empty, the cold sheets and her glasses on the nightstand a painful reminder of her absence.

You glanced at the clock—2:34 AM. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was okay.

And then you heard it—a soft click at the front door. The sound was faint, almost hesitant. Could it be her?

The kids had been asking for her every day, their little voices tinged with confusion and longing. Lin, in particular, had been stubbornly waiting by the window every evening, hopeful for even a glimpse of her.

You slid out of bed, your feet finding their way into your bunny slippers. The hallway felt colder than usual as you stepped quietly toward the door.

There she was.

Her broad shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion as she hung up her coat, her hands moving with deliberate care to avoid making noise. Her heart dropped when she saw you.

You felt a small hand tug at your side. Looking down, you saw Lin, her hair tousled from sleep, her big eyes peering up at you.

“mama?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, though her question carried the weight of the worry you all felt, Lin’s hand still fidgeting with the hem of your top.

Before you could answer, Grayson turned, her gaze softening as she noticed you both. Despite her exhaustion, her lips curled into a faint smile, and for a moment, the weariness in her eyes seemed to ease.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice low but warm, her footsteps light, kneeling down to Lin’s level with a soft grunt.

You stood there, watching them, your heart swelling as Ciri’s quiet footsteps joined the moment, her sleepy voice calling, “Mom?”