Sheila turned away again, resting both hands on the railing now as she looked down into the lower floor of the library.
Far below, she could just make out the general shape of the table they had left behind. Ariana's auburn hair. Max's dark shape seated across from her. Dylan moving too much, even from a distance, because of course he was.
The sight grounded her slightly.
She stood there in silence for several long moments.
Liam did not interrupt.
He simply waited.
Eventually, Sheila spoke again, her voice softer now.
"You know," she said, "a few weeks ago, if you had asked me something like this… I probably would've panicked."
Liam listened.
She smiled faintly, though the expression was more reflective than lighthearted.
"Not because I would've hated the idea," she said. "But because I wouldn't have known what to do with it. I wouldn't have known how to carry something like that without it crushing me."
Her thoughts drifted again—this time more clearly—to Percy.
