The morning in sert state's outskirts was beautiful—sunlight draped gently across the pavement, and the breeze carried with it a faint scent of budding flowers. Birds chirped lazily, and a rare calm seemed to settle over the street. If not for her daughter's condition, Tina might've considered it a blessing.
She had taken leave from work to care for Anna, her daughter, and today she devoted herself to cleaning and arranging the house with her mother-in-law. The silence between them was dense, but not cold. They didn't speak—not out of resentment, but because words often failed in the face of shared pain. Yet, in the stillness, Tina found a strange comfort in the older woman's eyes. A kind of mutual understanding passed quietly between them.
