Isaac used his Phased Vision to find his mother.
He found her alone in a dim, lavender-scented bedroom, hands pressed to her face, shoulders heaving. She hadn't wanted anyone to see, but the house was full of echoes now; the night had shaken loose long-buried emotions. Isaac paused at the door and, for a breath, considered phasing through and startling her, but seeing her weeping quietly, he knocked softly and waited.
"Isaac?" Her voice was small as she opened the door. She wiped her face, trying to smooth away tears as if they were a mess that could be arranged into neatness.
He stepped in and closed the door behind him. The room smelled faintly of lavender and old books, the same smell that used to lull him to sleep as a child. For a time, they only listened to each other breathe.
"It's nice to see you," she said finally, voice steadier. "Don't worry about me, love. Just take care of yourself."
