Zephyra's POV

I parked Mom’s battered old car in the driveway, the familiar creak of its doors stirring memories from my childhood. Gathering the groceries from the back seat, I carried them up the path toward the house. Just as I reached for the key, the door swung open, revealing Mom’s warm smile.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her, though my smile faded when I noticed the serious look on her face. “I got all the ingredients you wanted, and I picked up some ice cream for dessert. Do ...