Seraphina's Point Of View
"You still love him, don't you?" I asked softly, all teasing gone from my voice.
I sat there, watching the sunlight play across the coffee table, waiting for the answer that felt like it would shift the gravity in the room. My mother's hands trembled… a tiny, rhythmic vibration, against the glass of water she clutched.
The tremor seemed to spread through the liquid itself, creating small ripples that caught the afternoon light. I'd seen her nervous before, but never like this. Never so fragile. It was the kind of silence that usually preceded a storm, but this felt different.
This was the silence of a dam finally cracking after twenty-five years of holding back an entire ocean.
