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Izzy:She’s existing. Barely eating. Barely sleeping. Just… frozen. It’s awful, actually.

Kiera:Fuck, that does sound awful.

Izzy:And the kids, they’re like extra weird because Maggie’s weird. Arlo tried to push Jude down the stairs like some little psycho this morning.

“Mommy, can we have cookies for breakfast?” Eliza asked suddenly, her hopeful eyes cutting through Kiera’s spiraling thoughts. “They are oatmeal chocolate chip, and oatmeal is a breakfast food.”

“Yeah, cookies!” Quinn chimed in, bouncing on her toes.

Kiera forced a smile and reached out to ruffle Quinn’s hair. “That is a surprisingly good argument, Eliza. Go for it.”

The girls cheered and ran toward the cookie jar, their excitement cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over the house. It should’ve been comforting — these small, ordinary moments — but her thoughts kept drifting back to Maggie. To the raw, broken sound of her voice on the phone. The exhaustion laced into every word when Izzy called late last night.

Maggie’s mom was gone. Just like that. She’d died of a heart attack, gone within seconds. Every life ended too soon was a dark reminder of how fragile every day was.

A wave of grief for both Maggie and her mom washed over Kiera, an unexpected ache blossoming in her entire body.

Her parents were moving around the house in a gentle, hovering way — close but giving her space. Her mom puttered near the sink, pretending to busy herself with dishes that didn’t need washing. Her dad was adjusting a plant by the window for the third time.

Kiera couldn’t take it anymore.

She crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her mom in a tight hug. Her mom stilled for a moment, surprised, before returning the embrace with soft, steady hands on Kiera’s back.

“I love you, Mom,” Kiera whispered, her voice catching.

Her mom pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a tear off Kiera’s cheek with her thumb. “Aw, love you too, honey. More than I probably say out loud.”

Kiera turned to her dad and stepped into his arms. He wrapped her up in a firm, familiar hug and kissed the top of her head.

“I just… needed to say it,” she murmured. “I don’t want to take any of this for granted.”

Her dad gave her a squeeze. “You don’t. You never have. We’ve got you, kiddo. Always.”

Their presence helped her breathe easier, but it didn’t make the heaviness go away.

“Do you want us to watch the girls so you can go out and be with Maggie?” Her mom asked, voice soft as she rubbed Kiera’s back. “And Izzy?”

Tears welled in Kiera’s eyes and she sniffled, nodding. “I think flights might be pretty expensive, and I think her mom’s service is in just a few days.”

“Money is a stupid thing to get in the way of being there for the ones you love. We can help with whatever cost and watch the girls for however long you need,” her dad responded.

Kiera wiped at her eyes. “Thank you, both. So much. Have I told you lately?—”

“That I love you,” her mom burst into song, interrupting her.

Kiera shook her head. “Oh, no.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” her dad added, not even trying to be in the right key. Or a key at all, it seemed.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Kiera smiled through her tears. “I was going to say that I really do appreciate you.”

“Could you say we ease your troubles?” her dad said, ruffling her hair in exactly the same way she’d ruffled Quinn’s hair a few moments before. “That’s what we do.”

“How did I ever turn out normal with parents like you?” Kiera teased.

“Oh, John,” her mom said, pressing a hand to her chest like she was emotional over something adorable. “She thinksshe’sthe normal one.”

Kiera rolled her eyes.