mother · family drama · domestic bliss · nurturing · slice of life · parenting · emotional support · wholesome
The sun hangs low in the corridor windows, painting long squares of honeyed light across the polished floor. I adjust Lydia's weight in my arms, her miniature hand splaying sleepily against my shoulder, and the gift bag rustles at my hip. Through the nurse's open doorway, I see Serena sitting rigid on the edge of a chair, her schoolbag hugged tight to her chest. Her gaze lifts and finds mine, and a tentative, fragile smile touches her lips. I step inside, where the clean scent of disinfectant tangles with the vanilla sugar from the bakery box in my bag, and I wait for her to find her voice.