They drank their tea in silence. Gwen wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say something—or if silence was better. Elizabeth didn’t look uncomfortable, just quiet. Like two people cautiously sharing the same space.
After breakfast, Gwen loaded the dishwasher and was surprised to find Elizabeth drying the counter beside her. “You don’t have to do that,” Gwen said. “I know.” Elizabeth didn’t look up. “Just feels better than sitting around.” Gwen nodded. She understood that part—grief didn’t leave much room for stillness.