The kettle had boiled three times and been forgotten each time.
Roset sat on the front steps of the house, her knees pulled to her chest, hands wrapped around a mug she hadn't sipped from. The sky above was soft with clouds, the edges of the mountains touched with a fading blush of spring light.
Lea was at the neighbours' her adopted "grandparents" and Hino was inside tidying the same shelf for the third time.
Everything was ready.
Everything except her.
She tapped her fingers anxiously against the ceramic mug. Her heart had been fluttering all morning, like a bird trapped in a narrow room. She wasn't even sure what she was so afraid of.
What if he's not the Eliot I remember?
What if I'm not the Roset he remembers?
The sound of gravel crunching under tires jolted her.
She stood abruptly, the mug forgotten as it sloshed tea onto the steps. A sleek black government car rolled up the winding drive, flanked by the rustling of trees and the quiet hush of the countryside.
The car stopped.
She held her breath.
The back door opened.
And Eliot stepped out.
For a moment, all the years, all the wars, all the silence collapsed. She saw her brother, not just the man he was now, bearded and tired and thinner than she remembered, but the boy who used to read to her when she was sick, the man who had held her hand when she'd signed hospital forms after her miscarriage.
He looked up and saw her.
Neither of them moved.
Then he smiled, crooked and uncertain, like he wasn't sure he was allowed.
Roset ran.
Across the gravel, across the years, across every doubt and fear and hesitation.
He caught her in his arms, and they stood there, not speaking, clinging to one another like lifelines.
Her voice broke first.
"I thought you were dead."
His was rough, choked. "I thought I'd lost everything."
She pulled back just enough to see him clearly, her hands on his face. "Not everything. Not anymore."
Behind them, Hino stepped quietly onto the porch. He didn't interrupt. He simply watched, his arms folded lightly, a soft expression on his face.
Roset turned to him and gave a little nod. He returned it, steady, warm.
She turned back to Eliot. "Come inside. There's so much to tell you."
He exhaled a shaky breath. "I can't believe I'm here."
"You're home," she said.
And for the first time in a long time, she meant it.