Zinnia nodded, her eyes quickly flickering over to the house before her gaze landed on Alvin. “She means well.” But if one more person tried to press something into her hands or told her to get some rest, Zin might scream. Maybe it would be nice, cathartic even, to let out some of the emotions she felt, to stop holding everything in like it might keep her from breaking. But she didn’t want to do that here, not now, so instead she followed Alvin to the garden bench and eased herself down onto it beside him.

Zin’s mouth twitched although she couldn’t find the strength to smile. It was more of a faint, tired acknowledgment that he’d guessed right. “Bursting,” she murmured, but Alvin had already known there. She loved her family more than anything, she needed them more than ever, but sometimes it felt like she had no space to digest everything that had happened. What would happen now that Rhys was gone? Did they keep the house? Move? Could she raise Emery without returning to work? There were so many questions and not enough time to mull over the answers to any of them.

Her hands folded in her lap. “Calla’s taken Emery for a bit, and Thistle was hinting I should lie down…” Before she could think better of it, Zin tipped toward him. “I’m tired. But when I sleep I just replay it over and over.”

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