I mourned my mother while pregnant with a child I'd never get to keep. And no one thought to tell me I was grieving alone.
Two days after her breakdown, Elara emerged from her room with hollow eyes and a voice like gravel. She found Kairos in his study, working on his laptop, Leo coloring on the floor beside him.
"I need to see the records," she said without preamble.
Kairos looked up, taking in her appearance with careful assessment. Pajamas unchanged. Hair tangled. The look of someone who'd spent forty-eight hours crying.
"What records?"
"My mother's. The death certificate. Funeral arrangements. Burial location. All of it." Her voice was flat, emotionless. Past grief into numbness. "I need proof. I need to know it's real."
He didn't argue. Didn't suggest she wasn't ready. Just nodded and stood, moving to his file cabinet.
"I kept everything," he said quietly, pulling out a folder. "In case you ever asked. In case your memory came back."
