I used to think “home” was something you outgrow. I built a life where nobody asked if I was happy, only if I was reliable. I was a Regional Director at thirty-one — always traveling, always “fine.”

Then the call came, and everything stopped.

“It was a stroke, honey.

There was nothing the doctors could do. It’s better this way… Your mom went with everything intact until the end.”

***

I barely remembered the flight.

I just kept counting breaths and saying her name.

My fingers shook as I signed the car rental papers.

I pulled up to our old house and killed the engine, but I didn’t reach for the keys. My hands were locked on the steering wheel, and I watched my knuckles turn white.

The porch light was still on, even though it was midday. My mother’s green raincoat dangled crooked on its hook.

I sat there, staring at it, until my phone vibrated in my lap.

“Are you coming in, Nadia?” Aunt Karen’s voice crackled through the screen, sharp, even when trying to sound gentle.

I pushed the door open and stepped onto the path, suitcase bumping behind me. I paused in the doorway, fighting the urge to call out for my mom again.

Aunt Karen met me inside, already moving fast. She held out lemon bars with a tight smile.

“Your mom’s favorites.

Try one, will you?”

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, but took one anyway, just to keep her from worrying. Her eyes flicked to the mug in the sink. She started stacking containers.

“You slept at all?” she asked, peering at me over her glasses.

I shrugged, rubbing my forehead.

“It’s all a blur. I keep thinking I’ll hear her singing in the kitchen or the bathroom.”

Aunt Karen hesitated. “You want to sit down for a minute?

Or talk?”

I shook my head. “We should just get through the day. That’s what Mom would want.”

“Someone has to be,” I said, but my throat tightened.

At the cemetery, Aunt Karen wrapped her hand around my wrist, squeezing every time I looked ready to drift away.

People filed past, each leaving a few soft words.

I tried to smile, but my cheeks felt numb.

Then I saw a woman with tangled blonde hair, holding a baby boy. She was staring right at me, not the casket.