The day after Ashworth's resignation, Ruby found her mother in the studio.
Elara was standing before a large canvas, her brush moving in slow, deliberate strokes. She was painting something vast and beautiful—a garden, but not the one outside. This one was wilder, more untamed, full of colors that shouldn't exist together but somehow did. There were flowers that looked like they were on fire, trees that seemed to reach toward the sky with desperate hope, and a path that wound through the chaos toward a distant light.
Ruby stood in the doorway, watching her mother work. It was still strange sometimes, having Elara back. After so many years of thinking she was dead, of mourning a loss that had shaped so much of Ruby's life, having her here felt like a miracle she still couldn't quite believe.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in?" Elara asked without turning around.
Ruby laughed, crossing the room. "How did you know I was there?"
