Kafka sat rigid, his body trembling, his thoughts a storm with no order.
He could barely process what his mother had just said and how vulnerable she looked in the moment.
But Abigaille and Olivia—though shaken, were faster to react.
Seeing her tear up, they clung to the hope that Vanitas was softening, that perhaps her heart was opening at last.
And so, Abigaille took a step forward, her voice hesitant at first, then gathering strength.
"Then...i-if you truly feel this regret...if you truly see us as the mothers who stood in your place...then perhaps tonight can be different. Why not stay, Miss Vanitas?...Stay and share a meal with us."
"We can talk, not just about the pain, not just about what went wrong, but about Kafi's future...About how we all move forward together."
She tried to smile, though her cheeks were damp.
