Upstairs, Alicia stood before her cupboard, the wood creaking softly as she opened it. The scent that greeted her nearly made her chest ache—lavender sachets, the worn comfort of home, the faint trace of her mother's fabric softener.
It felt like it had been years since she last touched any of it.
She ran her hand across the neatly folded clothes and pulled out one of her old favorites—a soft cotton pajama set, light blue with tiny, faded little yellow minion scattered across it. She hugged it to her chest and breathed in deep. It still smelled like her—like calm, like warmth, like the girl she used to be before everything shattered.
With a bittersweet smile, she set it gently on the bedside table, smoothing the fabric like it was something precious.
