Julian walked in a moment later, pausing at the sight of the sisters clinging to each other. He didn't move to join them. He stayed by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed as he studied Amira's apology.
"I'm glad you two are talking," Julian said, his voice smooth but lacking its usual warmth. "The house is much quieter without the shouting."
"I'm sorry to you too, Julian," Amira said, wiping her eyes and giving him a soft, repentant smile. "I know you're only here because you love her. I've been acting like you were an invader, but you're the only reason she's still standing. Thank you for taking care of her."
The tension in the house seemed to evaporate. For the first time in a week, they had dinner together without an argument. Amira was the perfect sister, attentive, grieving, and supportive. She even asked Amara for advice on a small project she wanted to start in memory of their mother, a way to show she was moving forward.
