The sky was fading into soft oranges and purples as Ryan walked back through the quiet streets of Rosehill. Mrs. Harper waved him off with a warm smile. "You did good, Ryan. Real good."
He gave her a small nod. "Thanks… for today."
She tilted her head. "You ever need someone to talk to—or a walking history tour again—you know where to find me."
With that, she turned down her street, and Ryan continued home.
As he opened the door to the café, the scent of lemon and something floral hit him. His mother was inside, hair tied up messily, sleeves rolled, scrubbing the counter with intense focus.
"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him.
Sarah looked up, surprised. "Oh, hey. You're back."
He dropped his bag by the staircase and stepped further in. "Need help?"
She hesitated, then gave a soft smile. "Sure. Can you wipe down the tables?"
They worked in quiet rhythm for a few moments—Sarah scrubbing, Ryan wiping, the only sound the hum of a sleepy town settling down outside.
After a while, Sarah spoke without looking at him. "So… how was it?"
Ryan shrugged. "Alright. Played some ball. Met a few people."
"That's good," she said, her voice a little lighter.
He glanced at her. "Mrs. Harper said you used to help her in her garden."
Sarah laughed softly. "Yeah. She was the only one who didn't treat me like I was fragile when I came back from school crying."
There was a pause, then Ryan said, "She also said people here remember you… not just as the girl who left."
Sarah set the sponge down. "I was hoping they'd remember the good parts too."
Ryan leaned on the table. "Mom… I know you're not ready to talk. About everything. But… I'll wait. Just don't shut me out when the time comes."
She looked at him then—really looked—and nodded, her eyes a little glassy. "I promise."
He gave her a faint smile. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all."
She chuckled, stepping over to hug him, holding on for just a second longer than usual.