(Helen's POV)
She's passing the hallway with a glass of water, heading toward the stairs. She's not in a hurry. Not pausing dramatically. Just walking, the way she does everything — quietly, with that spine of hers completely straight.
But her eyes cut to us for one second.
Jason's hand on my shoulder. My wet eyes. The photo between us.
One second.
Then she's past the doorway and I hear her footsteps on the stairs, measured and unhurried, not rushing, not retreating. Just walking away at a normal pace.
Jason doesn't notice. He's looking at the photo again, at his daughter's baby face, at the lemon tree at the edge of the frame.
I watch the empty doorway where Caroline just was...
And smile.
(Caroline's POV)
The glass is cold in my hand.
I stand at the top of the stairs for a mom
