“Yep. She always said you were the only person who ever truly understood her.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like her.”
“Talking to Mom again?”
“She was right, you know,” Mia added.
“About what?”
She smiled. “About you.”
I didn’t answer—because I didn’t need to.
For the first time in a long time… I believed it.
The next morning, I woke up and sat with my thoughts for a while. Then I picked up my phone and sent a message to the group chat we’d had for years: “Breakfast next Sunday. All of you. No excuses.”
The replies came almost instantly—laughing, complaining, agreeing—the usual chaos.
I smiled. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like nothing was missing anymore.
