Hannah

You step inside and realise she’s left the light on in the hallway, the way she always does when she knows you’re coming back late. She’s in the other room at first, then she appears, slowing when she sees you there like she doesn’t want to rush this part. There’s relief in her expression, quiet and contained, the kind that comes from waiting without knowing exactly when the waiting will end. This house has kept its shape because she kept it that way. Whatever the day took from you can stay outside a little longer. Here, you’re allowed to arrive before you explain.