The flour-dusted woman didn't rush them. She didn't ask questions. She only stepped aside, holding the door open a little wider as if inviting in more than just morning air.
The windchime above the door tinkled softly again. A bird chirped. Somewhere inside, a timer beeped once and the faintest smell of cinnamon joined the drifting scent of bread.
Luna shifted slightly on her feet.
She didn't know this woman. She didn't know this house. But something about the way the doorway glowed with golden light made her chest feel a little less tight.
Her fingers loosened, just a little.
Grandma Lin gave the smallest, most patient nudge.
And Luna took one quiet step forward.
Just one.Luna stepped over the threshold, her small shoes making the faintest tap against the wooden floor. The air inside was warm filled with the scent of fresh dough, cinnamon, and something softly sweet that reminded her of honeyed buns.
The living room was cozy, with cushions shaped like animals tossed on the couch and little paper cranes hanging from the ceiling near the window. The walls were painted a soft cream, and there were framed drawings crayon swirls and wobbly stick figures proudly displayed alongside photos of a smiling family.
Grandma Lin and the young woman with the flour-dusted apron were already talking. They stood near the kitchen doorway, their voices low and warm, like a kettle beginning to hum.
Luna sat down on the edge of the couch. Her feet didn't reach the floor. She rested her hands in her lap, looking around with wide, curious eyes, but didn't say anything. Her shoulders were still a little hunched, her body still unsure in this new place.
The woman Ying Yue looked over with a smile that crinkled her eyes.
"I have a daughter about the same age as you," she said gently.
Luna's gaze flicked up at her, but she didn't respond.
"That's why I brought Luna here," Grandma Lin added, her voice calm and kind. "So she can meet Shuo. Maybe... they'll enjoy playing together."
Ying Yue gave a soft nod and turned toward the stairs.
"Shuo," she called up the staircase. "Come down, sweetheart. Someone's here to see you."
There was a pause.
Then thump, thump, thump.
Quick, small footsteps echoed from above.
And then she appeared.
A little girl with round cheeks, a mop of black hair in two short pigtails, and mismatched socks came skipping down the stairs. She wore a bright yellow dress with a bunny patch stitched near the hem, and her eyes sparkled with the easy joy of childhood.
As soon as she spotted Luna, she stopped.
The two girls stared at each other quiet, unsure, curious.
Shuo didn't say anything right away. She tilted her head, as if studying a cloud she hadn't seen before. Then, slowly, she walked over to where Luna sat and stood in front of her.
Luna looked up.
Shuo looked down.
Neither of them spoke.
Shuo reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny red marble. She held it out on her open palm no words, just an offering.
Luna stared at it, then at her.
It was such a small gesture. But in that moment, it felt like someone had cracked the silence just enough for light to get through.Luna stared at the marble in Shuo's small outstretched hand.
It was round and smooth, red with a swirl of gold inside like a tiny flame frozen in glass. The kind of thing a child might treasure for no real reason, except that it was shiny and secret and hers.
Shuo didn't speak. She didn't smile too big or push the marble into Luna's palm. She just held it out patiently, as if to say, this is for you, if you want it.
Luna's fingers hesitated, then slowly reached out and curled around it.
Warm. Solid. Real.
Shuo nodded once, satisfied, and then climbed up onto the couch beside her. Their knees barely touched, but neither of them moved away.
The two grandmothers Ying Yue and Grandma Linwere still talking in the kitchen, their voices a gentle background hum. Every now and then, Ying Yue laughed softly, and something sizzled in the oven. But in the living room, the girls sat in a small, shared silence.
Shuo reached into her other pocket and pulled out another treasure: a yellow plastic ring shaped like a sunflower. She slipped it on her thumb, then pointed at Luna's clips.
Luna touched the strawberry-shaped barrettes in her hair. Shuo nodded again, approvingly.
That was the beginning of their conversation without words.
Soon, Shuo slid off the couch and disappeared into a corner behind a curtain. When she returned, she was dragging a box nearly as big as her. It was stuffed with toys not noisy ones, but soft plushies, wooden blocks, animal figurines with chipped paint, and picture books with bent corners.
She didn't ask. She just opened the box, sat cross-legged on the floor, and patted the spot beside her.
Luna hesitated. Her fingers closed around the marble still hidden in her fist.
Then she slid off the couch and joined her.
The morning passed slowly, filled with tiny things stacking blocks that kept falling, pointing to animals in a book, and exchanging glances that were beginning to carry more comfort than caution.
Once, Shuo made a tower of pink and green blocks. It fell sideways into Luna's lap. For the first time in days, a sound escaped Luna's lips.
A laugh.
Small. Surprised. But a laugh.
Shuo blinked at her, then smiled wide not because the blocks had fallen, but because she'd heard it. That sound.
That soft, bright sound of something healing.