The fire has burned low by the time my mother finally releases me, her tears spent, her trembling eased. She cups my face one last time, her thumbs brushing away moisture I didn't realize had gathered on my own cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispers again. "For everything you are. Everything you've become."

I press a kiss to her forehead. "Get some rest, Mother. Tomorrow will be... demanding."

She nods, gathering herself with the quiet dignity I've come to admire in her. At the ...