The sun had barely risen when the soft hum of packing filled Aria’s room. Grandma Eleanor stood by the bed, carefully folding her shawls into a small suitcase.

“Grandma, I wish you’d stay a little longer,” Aria said quietly, her voice small, her eyes tired but warm.

Eleanor turned and smiled, that same gentle smile that always made Aria feel safe. “My darling, sometimes love means knowing when to step back. I can tell the air in this house is heavy again… but remember, storms don’t last forever.”

Aria looked away, blinking fast. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” Grandma said, brushing a hand over her cheek. “Be patient...