Sable steps into her parents’ house that morning, the sharp aroma of herbs and spices greeting her even before she enters the kitchen. She pauses at the doorway, her hand grazing the frame while her gaze settles on her mother’s hunched figure focused on her work.

“Good morning, Mother.” Her voice carries a deliberate lightness, though her mood is anything but. She walks in with a faint, practiced smile, knowing full well that any trace of annoyance won’t go ...