By the time Valerie came back down, she had changed into something presentable, her hair hastily brushed into place. She still felt like she had missed a step somewhere, like she had run into the scene halfway through without a script, but there was no time to dwell on it now.
Instead of going straight to the living room, she turned into the kitchen.
"Aunt Vale, let me help," she said quickly, already reaching for the tray before the older woman could protest.
Valentina gave her a knowing look, the corners of her lips lifting slightly, but she didn't comment. "Careful with that, it's hot," she said, handing her a dish.
Valerie nodded, focusing on the small task, grounding herself. The clink of plates, the warmth of the food, the familiar rhythm of arranging things—it helped settle the storm in her chest just a little.
Together, they carried the dishes out.
The moment Valerie stepped into the living room again, her eyes immediately went to Roe—
And she stopped.
