In the living room of the Anderson mansion, Vera sat cross-legged on the floor, her legs covered in healing bruises, a small sketchpad on her lap. She was drawing again something she hadn't done since before the pain began.
Valerie sat beside her, braiding her hair gently, like muscle memory. No words passed between them, but the air was thick with something more powerful—recognition. A bond reborn. A mother learning her daughter's favorite colors. A daughter finds safety in silence.
Bella leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching them with a quiet smile, when she found out from Ethan Valerie was alive she dropped everything and came running not only was her daughter alive she also had a granddaughter which made her feel a little old now because she was now a granny but none of that matter. She was glad she had them her life meant something now.
"She's got your fire, Val," Bella said.
Valerie looked up. "She's got more than that mum. She's got hope."
