Amelia smiled.
“You get to decide.”
Amanda frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Grandma always says recipes aren’t finished until the person making them adds something of their own.”
Her fingers tightened around the empty card.
Nobody rushed to fill the silence.
Some lessons require space before they can settle.
Amanda slid the card into her purse.
Not beside her keys.
Not near her wallet.
Carefully.
As though it had finally found a place where it belonged.
Outside, the evening air carried a faint scent of fallen leaves.
Amanda lifted her suitcase.
Before getting into her car, she looked back once.
Not at the house.
At the girls.
Lily was already teasing Grace about taking the last piece of garlic bread.
Grace nudged Amelia with her shoulder.
Amelia laughed.
The sound drifted across the yard.
Amanda smiled through her tears.
Then she drove away.
The girls returned inside.
Lily picked up the remote.
