The morning light was soft, filtering through the lace curtains with a gentle insistence that coaxed me from sleep.
As I dressed, my thoughts were a jumble of plans and possibilities, each one more uncertain than the last.
Downstairs, Grandma was already at the table, her usual cup of tea steaming gently in front of her.
“You ready for today?”
I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
She nodded, but her eyes were distant, the same unreadable look from the day before.
I joined her at the table, my own cup warming my hands, the familiar ritual grounding me amidst the uncertainty.
The clock ticked on, each second bringing us closer to the meeting, to whatever revelations awaited us.
As we finished breakfast, I noticed Grandma’s hands tremble slightly, a hint of anxiety she rarely showed.
“It’s going to be okay,”
