Fresh soup simmering on the stove.
Elena laughing in the kitchen.
Actually laughing.
And Mia standing beside her.
Cooking.
Not filming.
Not livestreaming.
Just cooking.
She looked up as I entered.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then she handed me a bowl.
“I made dinner.”
I accepted it.
The silence felt different now.
Healthier.
Finally, she looked at Elena.
