{Elira}
~**^**~
My fingers curled protectively around the cover of the yearbook, eyes wide as I stared up at Rennon.
I was already imagining flipping through the pages, finding a younger version of my mother smiling back at me. Maybe even handwritten notes in the margins. But then—
"Not yet," Rennon said.
I blinked, disoriented by the answer.
"What?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat. "But… then where did you get this one?"
"This isn't the Archive's copy," he replied, tone calm as always, like he wasn't just shattering the little rush of hope that had started to rise in me. "I got this one from our personal collection at home."
I stared at him. "Your personal collection?"
Rennon's expression didn't waver. "Our father was an ESA 1988 graduate."
For a second, it felt like time slowed down.
I turned instinctively toward Zenon — whose face was unreadable — before glancing back at Rennon. "You're serious?"
