Lena’s fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. “She’s gone,” she said. No dramatics, no tears—just a quiet statement that carried more weight than it should have. “She said… she said if she couldn’t take care of me anymore, I should come here. She said you would know what to do.”
Caleb let out a slow breath, the kind that doesn’t actually relieve anything.
He didn’t know what to do.
He hadn’t known what to do in years.
Still, he nodded, because what else was there to offer in that moment? “Okay,” he said. “We’ll… we’ll figure it out.”