Page 113 of Scars and Crowns

"And somehow..."

"...she still managed to feed half the neighbourhood."

She laughs softly.

"I still don't understand how."

"She could make one onion last three meals."

"One tomato became an entire curry."

"I learned more about cooking from her tiny kitchen than I ever learned anywhere else."

Her smile turns gentler. "When I worked late shifts..."

"...she'd keep Sara with her."

"No questions."

"No money."

"She'd just wave me out the door and tell me to go earn my salary."

Her eyes drift toward the town below. "I never really thanked her."

"I left so quickly."

"I always thought..." She shrugs. "One day I'll go back."

"I'll find her."

"I'll tell her how much she mattered." I don't even have to think.

"We'll find her." She looks at me. Properly looks. "I'll have someone start looking this week."

The surprise on her face makes me smile. "You really don't have to solve every problem the moment I mention it."

"I know." I reach for her free hand. Turn it gently over mine. My thumb brushes over the small rough patch near the base of her fingers. The callus catches slightly against my skin. Years of work. Years she carried alone. "I don't do it because I have to." I meet her eyes. "I do it because I want to."

She doesn't answer. She just watches our hands for a long moment. Then, quietly . . . She shifts closer. Until her shoulder brushes mine. Another inch. Then she rests her head against me. The movement is so natural it steals my breath anyway.

I don't move.

I barely breathe.

I'm irrationally afraid that if I do, she'll change her mind. Instead I simply let myself feel the weight of her resting there.

Home.

"I used to imagine something like this." Her voice is muffled lightly against my shoulder. "Not this exactly." She smiles to herself. "I was never brave enough to imagine details."

"It felt too dangerous."

"But..." She exhales. "I used to think..."

"...one day..."

"...maybe we'd sit somewhere."