After calming down a little and processing everything she had said, Ray finally spoke again.
Sitting on the sofa, his fingers intertwined, his posture still tense, he looked at her with weary eyes. His voice, though calmer, still carried the weight of years of grief and anger.
"Why are you here, Esme?"
The question lingered in the air, heavier than the silence that followed.
Esme met his gaze, her expression unreadable at first. Then, a faint smile tugged at her lips—not one of joy, but of quiet longing, of something bittersweet.
"Nothing much," she said softly. "I just heard that I've become a mother… and I wanted to see my children."
Her words landed like a blow.
The room, already heavy with tension, became even stiller. The air felt thick, charged with emotions no one knew how to put into words.
