Page 132 of Taken Away

Two sisters.

One always leaving. One always staying.

Walter looked back at her.

“Your aunt wasn’t perfect.”

“No?”

“Lord no.”

That made Aubrey laugh.

“But when Mabel loved something...” His voice softened. “...she stayed.”

The words landed somewhere deep.

She was thinking about birthdays. Graduations. Christmas mornings. Hospital visits.

All the times she’d waited for her mother. And all the times her mother never came.

Walter cleared his throat.

“Mabel was proud of you, you know.”

Aubrey’s eyes burned unexpectedly.

“She barely knew me.”

“She knew enough.”

The room fell quiet again.

Outside, a tractor moved slowly between the vineyard rows.

Walter gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then headed toward the door.

Before he left, he paused.

“People show you who they are, Aubrey.”

She looked up.

Walter’s expression was thoughtful. Almost sad.

“You just have to decide whether you’re willing to believe them.”

Then he walked out, leaving her alone with the silence, the photograph, and the uncomfortable realization that maybe she'd spent her entire life waiting for her mother to become someone she never intended to be.

Aubrey sat for a long moment, staring at the photograph—at Mabel’s smile, at Harold’s hand resting casually against her back.

The office suddenly felt too quiet.

Too full of ghosts.

Finally, she set the frame back on the shelf. She rubbed her eyes and stood.

Maybe coffee would help.