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Though freed, the tension of recent captivity clung to them like a second skin.

Then she saw them.

Her mother sat on a pallet near one of the central pillars, posture straight despite the bruises that marred her collarbone and the sling on her arm.

Her father was beside her, thinner than she remembered, with deepening silver threading his hair.

Snuggled up at their side was her little niece Tati, wild-haired and wide-eyed, disbelief writ clear across her young face.

They glanced up at once, their breaths hitching.

‘Savvine?’ her mother whispered.

She crossed the space like the girl she once was and dropped to her knees in their arms.

Her mother held her with a fierce grip. Her father’s hand grasped the back of her neck, anchoring her, grounding her.

Tati crept onto Savvine’s lap, and her sobs were the first to break the silence.

Savvine held them tighter. ‘I was too far from you, from home. All I wanted was this. I’ve never been happier to see your faces.’

They clutched each other in a desperate embrace, three generations, reunited.

Around them, the ship’s residents glanced away, letting them have this moment untouched.

Savvine ran her hands over her loved ones’ faces and shoulders, soaking in their warmth and weeping at the miracle of their still being whole.

The cage of pain deep inside her cracked open and released her anguish.

In time, she pulled back, wiping away her tears, a tremulous smile on her face.

‘Where are Rocco and Julia?’ Savvine asked, scanning for the couple, who were Tati’s parents and Savvine’s sister and brother-in-law.

‘They’re in labor,’ her mum said.

‘Of course I forgot,’ Savvine breathed. ‘Julia was in her final pregnancy weeks at the wedding. How’s it going?’

‘Well, we hope.’

Later, Savvine helped them reach their quarters.

Her mother downplayed the bruises. Her father coughed too much for her to believe his reassurances.

Tati clung to her arm and wouldn’t let go.

‘They never blinked,’ the little girl whispered, her voice breaking as she buried her nose in Savvine’s nape. ‘Those drones. They spied on everything. I didn’t cry, though. I kept the babies quiet in the shelter. I was brave.’

‘You are more than fearless,’ Savvine murmured, stroking the child’s curls. ‘You are a Bianchi.’

Savvine stayed for five days.

Between resettling her parents and family in their home, she reclaimed her old quarters and made herself useful.

The residents of theVenantia Eternawere still standing. Still strong, still Bianchi.

However, many were ragged, hungry, and worn thin.

Along with Lelah and Dorian, she distributed rations of fresh fruit and vegetables harvested from hydroponics.